The Lover That Went Wrong
by Cassy27
Summary: Loki doesn't believe he and Tony are meant to be, but he likes being around him, likes the distraction, and he definitely enjoys the way it unnerves his brother. What he couldn't have possibly predicted, was that he would end up pregnant and he's not exactly happy about that, nor is he prepared for what's to come. FrostIron, MPreg.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own none of these Marvel-characters! ****The title comes from 'Youth' by Daughter, a song which I do not own either.**  


**AN: Hi there. I feel like it has been ages since I've posted a story here, but I'm back and I bring you Ironfrost. This story is dedicated to Greenloki. I wrote this for her birthday, but I hope you guys will enjoy it, too!  
**

**_Warnings _entail angst, whump, sex, MPreg and delicate themes (such as the loss of a child, though no actual child will die, I repeat, _no child will die_!). No other characters will die either, except for a few random SHIELD-agents here and there. I will post specific warnings per chapter should you guys find that necessary. **

**I don't think much more needs to be said. Enjoy! **

**The Lover That Went Wrong**

**- Chapter One -**

Shivers ran down his spine and Loki tossed his head back, pressing it into the pillows beneath him. A soft moan left his lips and he screwed his eyes shut tightly until he saw nothing but stars dancing before him. He tried not to lose his mind as he felt Tony's lips kiss their way down his stomach, tickling him. With every fiber of his body, he had to force himself not to break down in curses and faint sobs.

This was going too slow.

_Damn Tony_.

How long had they been at this now? Two hours? Three? Honestly, Loki hadn't known Tony possessed such stamina, but he loved it. _Oh_, he loved it! Tony's hand slipped underneath his thighs, pushing them up to his chest and forcing Loki to spread his legs as far as possible. Shivers ran down his spine again. Of course, Loki was merely indulging Tony in this play, this game of pleasure, because he was still stronger than the tiny mortal man – he would always be. He was _allowing_ Tony this.

None of that changed the fact that what Tony was doing to him was absolutely mind-blowing, was leaving Loki as a shivering, moaning, _pathetic_ mess. He had been with many men and women during his very long lifetime – and not all of them had been exactly mortal or human either – but he had to admit that Tony was very creative for his young age. Though he wasn't particularly young in a mortal's rates. None of that mattered.

Tony licked at the tip of Loki's cock, lapping at it, gently sucking, and Loki thrusted his hips upward, seeking more warmth and wetness and friction. Just _more_.

"_Tony_," He breathed, or was he moaning?

"Just relax, baby."

Oh, he was relaxed alright! When Tony wrapped his lips around Loki's girth, taking it all, taking everything Loki had to offer and pleasuring him in a way not many men had a gift for, Loki heard himself whimper. Pathetic really. Honestly, he didn't know why was reacting this way. He'd been in this position with so many already, but the fact that it was _Tony_ who was sucking him off just made it entirely different.

Perhaps even intimate.

Loki banned that thought from his mind. He wasn't _intimate_ with Tony. They fucked. Nothing more. It was all just lust and desire and-

Three fingers slipped into his already well-fucked hole and Loki had to bite down on his lower lip to prevent himself from moaning or whimpering again. He refused to be a wanton whore lying beneath the Man of Iron. He wouldn't lower himself to that.

He tasted his own blood.

Tony continued to suck, to nibble, to do whatever he could do with that glorious warm mouth of his. His fingers slipped in and out of Loki's hole, making his body shake with pleasure, making every muscle of his body tense because _by the Gods_, he couldn't take the waves of pleasure currently coursing through his veins.

And just when he was about ready to come, Tony stopped.

_That bastard_!

Lifting his head, glancing at Tony who was positioned in between his legs and just about ready to curse his very existence, Loki watched as Tony straightened his back and crawled up Loki's body.

Without warning, Tony's lips crashed against his own and Loki grumbled in surprise, letting his head fall back onto the pillows, but still Tony didn't stop. He kissed Loki, hot and hard and passionate.

He could feel Tony's hand snake between his legs and before Loki understood what would happen – truly, his mind wasn't cooperating right now – he felt Tony enter him, his cock thick and hot and _burning _him. He clenched his butt-cheeks together, wanting to feel more of whatever it was that he was feeling, and heard Tony moan above him, his dark brown eyes fluttering shut.

Loki reached upward and threw an arm around Tony's neck, pulling him close and kissing him. Tony began to move his hips, slamming them into Loki again and again, unrelenting, demanding, _possessive_, and Loki loved it, moaning and whimpering and pushing down against Tony, just wanting more of him. _More, more, more_.

He came with a strangled cry, spilling all over his stomach and chest, but still Tony didn't stop. He kept thrusting into him, fucking him through his orgasm when a few minutes later, the mortal came himself. Loki could feel Tony's slickness trail down his legs, could feel as he let his head fall to the crook of his neck, breathing hard and kissing him. A moment later, Tony collapsed on top of him and Loki didn't care one bit. He remained unmoving, desperately trying to get his breathing under control.

He succeeded after a while, but still he didn't move and Tony made no preparative to move either. They lay there, their limbs tangling together, remaining quiet, and there was nothing awkward about it either. They had done this dance a hundred times already and Loki was no longer afraid of it.

Neither was Tony.

-/-

"What are you doing?"

The question came somewhat unexpected and Loki found himself raising one eyebrow. Just one though. He shrugged and let his gaze return to the magazine in his hands. Honestly, why mortals found this kind of literature entertaining was beyond him, but he was starting to understand the strange lure this _gossip_ held.

"I swear, Loki, if you-"

"Are you really going to threaten me, _brother_?" Loki asked without looking up. He threw his legs over the edge of the couch and turned a page of the magazine. The next article was about some new diet that celebrities apparently loved. How peculiar.

"Threatening you is pointless," Thor said. He leaned against the doorframe, his arms folded before his chest, his vivid blue eyes never leaving Loki's form. "I want to make a promise to you," He continued, "I _will _hunt you down if you harm him."

"Oh, don't act as if he's so innocent," Loki found himself saying and truly, he hadn't expected to hear such sharpness to his own voice. Perhaps the topic of conversation was getting to him somehow – or maybe it was the fact that he was having it with Thor. He would never know. "Stark will hunt me down himself if I _harm _him."

Thor said nothing in return, but he didn't move from his spot, his gaze remaining glued to Loki who was growing more and more uncomfortable. "Is there something else, _brother_?" Oh, how he loved to lace that little word with mock. Seeing Thor flinch each time he did made him smirk mischievously. Truly, Thor should know better by now. "I'd like to finish this magazine before Stark gets home. We have plans."

Still Thor did nothing.

Perhaps it was time to scare him away.

"You're welcome to join if you want." _Ha, as if_! Though a part of Loki suspected Tony wouldn't actually mind, that creep. "We've never done a threesome before, though I'm certain you could bring something new to-"

"Enough, Loki." Thor pushed himself away from the doorframe, his arms dropping to the sides of his body. He shook his head, disappointment painted in his clear blue eyes, but that was nothing new. It was no secret Thor would love nothing more than to take his brother back to Asgard, but all of his previous attempts had failed miserably. Either Loki escaped his clutches, only to get revenge a few days later, or he wreaked so much damage that Thor was forced to let him go before he destroyed half a city with his magic.

In any case, Loki wasn't going to return to Asgard soon – willingly or forced. No, he quite liked it here on Earth, here at Stark's mansion. Why remained a mystery, however, one that Loki wasn't quite ready to unravel just yet.

Tossing his brother a cold smile, Loki turned his attention back to his magazine, but still Thor did not leave. Honestly, was this a new form of torture? Frankly, Loki preferred the Chitauri's. He quickly shook that thought away. No one knew of his time with those monsters and no one would _ever _know either.

"Seriously, Thor, _what_?" Loki snapped. He threw the magazine aside – it landed on the floor with a dull thud – and glared up at his brother. If only looks could kill … Well, Thor wouldn't actually drop dead, but he would find himself in some serious pain.

"I will never be able to understand you," Thor noted. He walked forward and for a moment Loki considered vanishing into thin air right then and there, because like hell was he going to give Thor the chance to grab him or something, but then he witnessed his brother pick up the magazine and neatly place it back on top of a low coffee table near the floor lamp. "I've long given up trying to, but I like to believe that some things will never change about you. I like to believe that there is a part of you that I still _know_."

Loki hissed. "Is there a point?"

"You've changed," Thor replied, his blue eyes piercing Loki's green ones, "Or you _are _changing."

All of a sudden, Loki sprung up from the couch and growled. He faced Thor head-on. "Be careful with your words, _brother_," He said, "Or I might just cut off your tongue."

And then Thor smiled. He actually, genuinely _smiled_ and Loki wanted to wipe it from his smug face, claw it off, but he couldn't. If he started an actual physical fight, there was no telling where he might end up. He made himself no illusions after all. He was no match for the _Mighty Thor_.

"I will see you around," Thor said as he took a step back, "_Loki_." And then he walked away.

_Bastard_.

-/-

By the time Tony returned from wherever the hell he'd gone off to, Loki was in a seriously pissed off mood. Thor's words kept echoing through his mind and truly he didn't know why they unnerved him so much. He should just ignore his idiot of a brother, ignore whatever stupidity came from his lips, but still Loki couldn't shake the feeling that on some level, Thor had spoken the truth.

Turning his head sideways, giving Tony a better angle to suck on that deliciously sensitive spot just underneath his ear, Loki sighed and closed his eyes. He should not think of his brother while Tony was kissing him like that, feeling him, palming him.

"Where is your head?" Tony asked suddenly. He pulled away from Loki's neck and gazed into his guarded green eyes. The mortal was frowning, feeling that something was going on that of which he had no clue, and Loki preferred if it stayed that way.

"Nowhere," He said. He kissed Tony, his tongue tracing the seam of his lips.

But Tony pulled away a second time, a frown still in place. "No, you're hiding something from me."

That was it.

Loki shoved Tony away from him and moved to sit up on the bed, crossing his arms before his chest and glaring at everything that caught his eye. "If you think I'm going to _share _with you," He said roughly, "You're mistaken."

Tony rolled onto his back, staring up at Loki who stubbornly refused to meet his gaze. One arm cushioned his head while his other warm hand moved to the small of Loki's back, rubbing soothing circles into his skin – and _oh_, why didn't Loki pull away? They weren't making out anymore and fucking was out of the question, not with Loki's mind so focused on Thor.

So why did he remain sitting on the mattress, his legs Indian-style and his arms crossed before his chest? Why did he continue to enjoy Tony's mindless ministrations? _Because he was changing_. Curse Thor!

"What did he do?" Tony asked after a long silence.

Curse Tony, too.

Since when could that man understand him so well? Since when did he need nothing more than silence to unearth Loki's troubles and frustrations? Dangerous. This was getting extremely dangerous, but still Loki did not pull away.

"Can we not discuss my brother?" He asked tightly.

Tony hummed.

More silence.

"So are we going to fuck or–?"

Loki angrily slapped Tony's hand away and growled at him. "You and your vile mind," He said, glaring at the smaller man, "Is that all you can think about? Fucking a _god_? Is that the only reason you are attracted to me?"

"You know it's not," Came Tony's much too sincere reply.

Huffing angrily, Loki stared straight ahead again.

"I've asked you out a dozen times already," Tony continued and _oh,_ he had the nerve to put his hand to the small of Loki's back again, caressing him, _again_. If Tony knew what was good for him, he should pull away that hand if he wanted to keep it! "But you keep declining my offers."

Loki said nothing to that. For a while he had considered accepting Tony's offers, if only to piss off Thor, but it seemed that since the very beginning, he had known to be careful. None of it had made a difference it appeared, and that grated him.

His mind drifted to the sensations running through his body at the mere feel of Tony's fingers brushing against his skin.

"Have I changed?" He asked abruptly. The tension of his muscles slipped away and he let out a breath he didn't know to have been holding.

Glancing at Tony, he found the mortal narrowing his eyes. It seemed he was expecting some sort of trap, thinking that whatever answer he gave, it would be a wrong one. Tony was entirely right.

"Maybe," The billionaire replied diplomatically and _screw him for avoiding the truth_. Or perhaps that _was_ the truth, plain and simple.

Without another word, Loki climbed out of bed and began to dress.

"Don't leave," Tony said, whining a bit, propping himself up onto his elbows. For a moment, Loki considered giving in, but then Tony had to be an idiot and say, "So what if you've changed? Is that bad?"

"Yes," Loki shrieked. He actually _shrieked_. What the hell was going on with him? "I don't want to change, certainly not because of you!" He watched in surprise as Tony turned hurt because of his words. He shouldn't care, but he did. It was too late to take those words back, though.

But Tony wouldn't be Tony if he didn't surprise Loki in that moment. "Go out with me," He said, his chocolate brown eyes piercing Loki's fierce green ones. Loki truly didn't know how to deal with such stubbornness. He'd never had a clue to handle Thor's stubbornness either. It annoyed him beyond reason.

Staring at the mortal, Loki was unable to come up with a proper response to that. _Dangerous_, echoed through his mind, again and again. His stomach churned and it became harder and harder to breathe. Why? He had no idea.

"No," He said, and with that, he vanished into thin air.

-/-

Humming a nameless tune, Thor made his way through Stark's mansion in search of food. He'd been sparring with the Captain the entire afternoon and it was time to strengthen himself again – not that he particularly needed it. He could last days without food, but that didn't mean he wanted to torture himself. Besides, the Captain was quite fierce. He lasted longer than a mere mortal would which was impressive.

Making his way to Stark's kitchen, Thor passed the living room, still humming, and already contemplating on what exactly he would eat, when his crystal blue eyes fell on a dark figure seated on the couch. For a split second, he paid it no heed, but then he stopped dead in his tracks. There was no question about it that it was Loki who sat in the darkness of this late winter-afternoon, but there was something … _off _about him. Loki loved to play the villain-archetype, but not even he would lower himself to sitting in dark corners, cackling – not that he _was _cackling.

Slowly, carefully, Thor turned towards his brother, his blue gaze sharpening. For the last few months, he'd gotten so used to Loki's presence within these walls and eventually, he'd grown _pleased _about it. He'd always looked forward to seeing his younger brother, if only from a distance, because each time he saw him it was proof that he still lived, that he was okay – whatever _okay _entailed.

But then Loki had disappeared and Thor wasn't a fool. He knew it had something to do with his words that day – and possibly with something that Tony had done. The fact remained that he had told Loki that he was changing and then just a few hours later the god of mischief had vanished.

Now, twelve long weeks later, the raven haired prince had reappeared.

"Loki?" Thor dared to ask. He heard a heavy breath coming from where Loki sat and truly, Thor wished he had a better view of his brother, because something was wrong, he could feel it. Taking a step forward, Thor intended to switch on the light, but as he reached for the floor lamp, a sudden cloud of fire – actual hot, _burning _fire – passed him by.

Thor shrieked and stumbled back.

"Keep walking if you know what's good for you."

For all the centuries that he'd known Loki, he'd never heard his voice so … twisted. It was wrong – too deep, too menacing, too hurt – and it made him hesitate, made him contemplate on switching on the light anyway, when suddenly, there was another wisp of fire coming at him.

"What has happened?" He asked, not daring to ask _what has Tony done_? His fingers itched to summon Mjolnir, to defend his little brother against whatever Tony had done to him – or perhaps he should be more concerned with Tony's safety. After all, Thor had done nothing wrong, but he nearly got burned twice anyway. What did that spell for the Man or Iron?

"Walk away, Thor," Loki said softly, yet sharply, then, "_Get out_!"

But Thor didn't. He stared at his brother in shock, or at where his brother supposedly sat because honestly, the corner was very dark. "I will not–" He began, only to be startled as Loki suddenly jumped up and closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye.

Long, cold fingers closed around his throat and Thor gasped for air. For a second, he wanted to grab Loki's shoulders and throw him aside in an instinctual act – he could, he had the physical strength – but he controlled himself, certainly when he _saw _him. Loki had always been a pale man, but this was different. His skin appeared ghostly white, almost translucent, and dark circles accentuated the brightness of his green eyes. He looked frenzied, feral, _crazy_. And he was shaking, seemingly struggling to stay standing.

What in the Nine Realms had happened to him?

"If you value your life, you will leave now."

Thor swallowed heavily when Loki's fingers disappeared from his throat. "And what about Stark's life?" He couldn't help but ask. Perhaps he shouldn't have, not after witnessing Loki's eyes darken with absolute fury.

"Leave him to me," he growled.

Shaking his head, knowing he was risking much right now, Thor said, "I won't let you kill him."

"Oh, I'm not going to kill him," Loki replied easily, though slightly out of breath. He moved back into the shadows, presumably taking a seat again. "Unless he decides to be an asshole, then I'll flay him alive."

This was bad, _very bad_, but Thor knew he had pushed Loki enough. After all, he did value his life and he didn't want to meet his end by burning to death. He distanced himself from Loki, but he knew he could not leave him entirely.

Moving toward the kitchen, Thor grabbed himself a glass of water and waited. And he waited a long time, but eventually he heard the familiar voice of one Tony Stark.

-/-

The billionaire was an oblivious, ignorant bastard.

How he managed to be a superhero, fighting villains and making it out alive was a big question mark for Loki. Truly, could he not _sense_ Loki's presence? Thor was a foolish, idiotic _imbecile_, but even he had felt his brother as he'd made his way through the living room earlier, but Tony had entered without even glancing around, dropping off a bunch of papers onto the nearby table and carelessly tossing his jacket over a nearby chair, not having a care in the world it seemed.

But the darkness did seem to unnerve Tony somehow – perhaps he had better instincts than Loki gave him credit for. He stepped around the couch and switched on the floor lamp, his chocolate brown eyes suddenly falling on Loki and "_Argh, _what the hell!"

Loki said nothing, his eyes merely taking in Tony's startled form.

Tony let out a shuddering breath. "You nearly gave me a heart-attack." When Loki remained silent and unmoving, Tony frowned and took a step forward until- "What the hell happened to you?"

Without missing a beat, Loki said, "You did."

Silence.

Tony nervously licked his lips before speaking again, clearly confused and anxious. "Where have you been?" He asked, his voice surprisingly soft. It better stay that way because Loki was moments away from tearing the mortal apart, limb by limb. "For weeks I hear nothing of you, and then you reappear looking like … hell."

"Well, I have been to hell and back," Loki replied evenly, "Literally."

"O-kay," Tony said, confusion taking the upper hand. He took another step forward which Loki allowed. For now. "Care to give a more accurate and translucent explanation?"

Slowly, Loki stood and closed the distance between them, his fingers brushing the side of Tony's face, nails scraping down the skin, scratching him. Tony hissed softly, but he didn't pull away – which was remarkable, Loki thought as he ran a thumb over Tony's lower lips.

"I've been looking for answers," He confessed, his voice sharp and dangerous. He might be _caressing _Tony, but there was nothing sweet about the way his fingertips touched Tony's face. In fact, it all had a dangerous tinge to it. _A warning_.

"Answers?" Tony asked. His fingers curled around Loki's wrist, though he didn't push it down. He just held it. "To what question?"

"To the question of how the _fuck_ you got me pregnant," Loki snarled.

All color left Tony's face, his brown eyes widening with shock and disbelief and this was exactly what Loki had been anticipating. He pulled his wrist out of Tony's grasp and violently shoved the mortal back, nearly making him fall down. Tony never looked away from Loki, however, his wide brown eyes seemingly glued to him.

And then his gaze lowered to Loki's stomach and _oh, just fucking great!_

Electricity sparked from Loki's fingertips before a thread of fire shot away from him, forcing Tony to roll aside, searching for cover.

"Fantastic, Stark," He shouted – _screamed_, "Just fantastic!"

He watched as Tony peeked from over the edge of the couch, his eyes still holding nothing but disbelief. Loki shot more fire at him, watching the couch go up in flames and hearing Tony yell out in half concealed terror. Smoke filled the room, but with one flick of his wrist, the flames and smoke disappeared.

He shouldn't have done that.

Stumbling back, Loki clutched at his stomach, whimpering. Tears invaded his eyes and he couldn't breathe. _Fuck, he couldn't breathe_! Grabbing onto the edge of a high coffee table, Loki closed his eyes and forced himself to calm down, forced himself to ignore the pain tearing his body apart.

"… Loki?"

Tony had no right to sound so utterly terrified.

That was Loki's right.

"Stay away from me," He hissed. His legs were unable to hold up his weight and he fell down, somehow managing to land onto the couch. His hand was still clutching his stomach, but at least the pain was dissipating and it became easier for him to breathe.

So no more magic then.

"Loki, I really don't understand," Tony said, his voice soft and close to breaking. It was the first time Loki saw Tony so … fragile, sensitive even. He couldn't wrap his head around it and, frankly, he didn't want to either. He had bigger problems to deal with than try and comprehend whatever the hell Tony Stark was experiencing right now.

And he was tired, so very tired! He couldn't remember the last time he'd had some proper sleep or a proper meal. "I travelled the Realms looking for an answer," He explained softly. He still wanted to scream, still wanted to tear Tony's head off for this, but he lacked the energy. "Turns out the answer was quite simple."

Carefully, Tony stepped closer until eventually he kneeled down in front of Loki, hesitantly taking his trembling hands into his own. Loki wanted to swat them away, but he even lacked the energy to do that. How _pathetic_. Sighing heavily, he closed his eyes and tried to think – just _think_, but it was impossible. His body felt like fire was raging through it, consuming him.

When Tony's hand came to rest against the side of his face, Loki's eyes snapped open.

"You're so warm," Tony said.

"It's the child," Loki whispered. He would have _spoken_, but he didn't have enough breath. "I'm Jotun, Tony. Turns out there is no issue with being male _and _carrying a child. I wish I had known that sooner."

Tony said nothing, merely continued to soothingly brush Loki's cheek and Loki cursed himself for enjoying it. He wanted to push Tony away, wanted to continue to scream at him, continue to curse his very existence, but instead sleep was claiming him. Or was it darkness? Unconsciousness? Was there a difference?

"But I'm …" Loki licked his lips, his mouth so dry suddenly, "I'm an abomination," He continued, his eyes fluttering shut. He really shouldn't have used so much magic. "I'm not a true Jotun. I'm not a true … _anything_."

"Loki, what are you say–?"

But he didn't hear more.

Darkness claimed him and he welcomed it.

**TBC ...**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: For Greenloki (who is also the best beta I could have! Thank you, everyone who read and reviewed the first chapter. I do hope this second chapter will be enjoyed as well.**

**The Lover That Went Wrong**

**- Chapter Two -**

"Careful, careful," Tony couldn't help but repeat. He watched – with a strange tightness in his chest – as Thor lifted an unconscious Loki from the couch, cradling him in his arms. He looked too small and fragile as Thor held him, and Tony didn't know what to think of it. For so long, Loki had been their enemy, large and imposing and terrifying, but then … Well, everything had changed and Tony had – for the lack of a better word – grown to _like _the god of mischief.

And now he was staring at the raven haired god, feeling peculiarly concerned, insecure – _anxious_.

Thor brought his brother to Tony's bedroom on the first floor, carrying him as if he weighed nothing, and gently placed him down on the silk sheets of Tony's bed. For a moment, Tony expected to see a radiant pair of emerald green eyes, mischief tingling in them, revealing that it had all been one elaborate joke, but Loki remained still, _too _still, his skin having an unhealthy pale color and dark circles deepening his eyes, making him look deathly ill. Perhaps he was. Tony refused to entertain the idea.

Walking to the other side of the bed, Tony slowly sat down on the edge of it, his brown eyes somehow unable to leave Loki's delicate features. He had never seen him like that before and truly he didn't know how to handle the situation. Should he be this concerned, this shaken? Perhaps not, but he couldn't help how he felt.

Attentively, gingerly, he brushed aside a lock of Loki's raven hair, revealing more of his ghostly pale complexion, and Tony let go of a deep breath he hadn't known to be holding. There lay a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach, dragging him down, making it damn hard for him to breathe.

"I should take him back to Asgard."

"No." Tony's brown eyes shot up to meet Thor's worried blue ones. The mere idea of Loki returning to his home realm didn't sit well with him and for some reason he just didn't want to be parted from the god of mischief, not now, not while he was ... Was he being sentimental? Foolish? Perhaps he was both. "Loki would never forgive you if you took him back."

"Look at him, Stark," Thor argued with a soft but commanding voice. He placed a hand to the side his brother's face, his thumb caressing his cheek almost absentmindedly. If Loki had been conscious, Thor would lose that hand. "He is ill, Stark. He is burning up and he needs help."

"I can help him." The words had left him before he realized what exactly he had said, and he knew more than anyone that it was a lie. What could he do about a dying god? Was Loki in fact dying? And what about … It was difficult to _think_ about it and a part of Tony didn't want it to be real. How could it be real?

"I heard him," Thor said, sighing, his gaze returning to his brother, "He travelled the Nine Realms looking for answers, but he didn't find any to _this_, but he hasn't visited Asgard, he would never."

"Exactly," Tony replied instantly. Only then did he realize that his hand had slipped around Loki's, their fingers intertwining and honestly, he had no idea what the hell he was doing. He didn't want to think about it too much either. "He doesn't want to return to Asgard, he's not … ready, so don't take him there. He would never forgive you."

_He would never forgive me_.

Was he begging? Was he actually begging on behalf of a crazy, mostly power-hungry god? Then again, Loki had changed lately. Power didn't seem to interest him as much anymore. He was content with hanging out here, at his mansion, mostly annoying the rest of the Avengers while Tony secretly adored his company. Or maybe it wasn't that big of a secret.

After a long silence where Thor was clearly contemplating his options – there was a heavy frown adorning his features – the god of thunder finally cleared his throat and said, "I will go to Asgard alone. Father might hold more answers."

"Thank you," Tony said, hearing softness to his voice that wasn't often there.

"Look after him," Thor said.

Tony nodded. "I will."

-/-

The sheets were incredibly soft – too soft – which led Loki to the easy conclusion that he was lying in Stark's bed. The gods knew he'd woken there enough times, but somehow it felt different. _He_ felt different. And then his memory rewound and reality crashed into him, reminding him of everything that was fucked up.

Moving a hand to his stomach, Loki found that it felt different, too. There was a slight bulge to it, which was strange and hard to grasp, and frankly, Loki didn't want to think too much about it. There shouldn't be a bulge, because he shouldn't be … Was he really?

Yes, yes he was. It hadn't been a dream.

With uncontrolled movements – because his head felt just about ready to explode and every inch of his body ached – he sat up, forcing away the sudden nausea that claimed him, and it wasn't morning-sickness, no, Loki refused to accept that. His head spun around and dark spots floated before his eyes, and he was just about to throw himself down again when he heard a soft voice.

"Easy there."

_Oh_, how he wanted to make that voice shut up – to make the _man _behind the voice shut up. He turned his head to the side to find Tony Stark beside the bed, one ankle crossed over one knee, leaning almost casually into the soft cushions of the armchair he was sitting in. His large brown eyes were focused on him and Loki felt the strange need to disappear, and for a moment, he almost did, but then he felt a sharp pain to his stomach and he stopped.

"Loki?"

"Oh, do shut up," Loki snapped. He threw the blankets aside and tossed his legs over the edge of the bed, fully intending to walk right out of here, but as soon as he wanted to stand, he felt his head swim in darkness and he fell back down, landing onto his back and staring up at the ceiling.

Great. Just _great_.

Stark's face invaded his personal space a second later, panic and concern lacing those deep, dark eyes, and Loki nearly reached up, wanting to slap Tony away, but he felt too tired to move really. So he continued to lie there, staring up at the Man of Iron, glaring at him because wasn't it his fault that they were in this mess right now? Yet Loki wasn't naïve. It took two to dance.

He shouldn't have danced with Tony.

"Can I get you anything?"

"Thor's head on a plate," Loki muttered, "_Your _head on a plate. The destruction of the Avengers. World domination. There are many things you could get me." He bit down on his lower lip then, refusing to accept any real help, but who was he kidding? Didn't he faint only hours ago in Tony's living room? The fact that he now lay in his bed was proof that he'd lost his dignity a long time ago, which led him to the next very important question.

"How did I get here?" He asked.

"Uhm …" Tony disappeared from Loki's vision, stepping back.

"Oh, that's just terrific," Loki sighed sharply. He rolled onto his side and gazed at Tony who retook his seat in the armchair, looking very awkward and doing anything in his power to avoid meeting Loki's gaze. Hilarious, really. "It was Thor, wasn't it?"

Tony nodded, his eyes focused on his hands lying helplessly in his lap. _Ha_, the great Man of Iron seemed almost painfully embarrassed at the moment, which was something Loki had thought to never witness, but with everything that was going on, the mess they were in, Loki felt in no mood to mock the superhero for it. He filed it away for later.

"Where is he?" He found himself asking instead.

"He's gone to Asgard," Tony answered, his eyes flickering upward to meet Loki's shocked emerald green ones, "It's not what you think," he quickly added, "I mean, you're still here, aren't you?"

"And why is that?" Loki asked, honest curiosity in his voice. Thor had been waiting for the right opportunity to take him back to Asgard for months, and now he'd been given the chance on a golden plate and he hadn't taken it? It made no sense and truly, it was giving him another headache.

"I didn't want him to take you," Tony answered truthfully, unashamed, his awkwardness having disappeared. He gazed at Loki with the most peculiar look in his eyes, one that Loki couldn't recognize, or perhaps he could, but he was too stubborn to do so. "Thor went to Asgard to find more answers, to find a way to understand what's happening."

"I already told you what's happening."

"No, you really didn't." Tony stood from the armchair and went to sit on the edge of the bed. For a moment, Loki wanted to shove him right off, not liking the idea of Stark sitting so close to him, but he still lacked the energy. "You're pregnant, but that doesn't explain why you're …" He waved his hand in Loki's general direction.

"… a mess?" Loki finished that sentence for Tony. He pressed himself upward until he could rest against the headboard of the bed. He hated to admit that he hadn't been this comfortable in weeks, though there was that continuous ache to his stomach, a soreness to his muscles, reminding him again and again that there was an actually child growing inside of him.

"I'm pretty sure none of the other … Frost Giants go through what you're going through right now when they're expecting," Tony said and it was so plainly obvious that he was trying to choose his words oh so carefully, but that didn't change the fact that Loki wanted to cut his tongue out for saying it anyway.

"I've told you," He replied sharply, unable to hide the hurt and disgust in his voice, "I'm a monster. I shouldn't have children."

"Don't you already–?" Tony stopped himself and he should praise the gods he did, because Loki knew what he'd wanted to say and if he had indeed said it … Well, Thor wasn't around to protect Tony, was he? And the other Avengers sure as hell wouldn't have been able to save him.

There was a short silence.

"You're not a monster," Tony said eventually, his voice too soft to Loki's liking.

"Don't talk to me as if I'm suddenly nothing more than a knocked-up princess," He scowled. Just to add strength to his words – and because more often than one would think, he was an idiot – he twisted his wrist, summoning a bit of magic and shoving Tony right onto the floor with an invisible force.

He would have laughed when hearing Tony's surprised and shocked yelp, but an explosion of discomfort and pain followed right after he had used magic, and Loki squeezed his eyes shut, inhaling sharply. He held his breath, unable to cope with all the dizzying sensations claiming his body, and he knew that he should keep breathing, but whatever. He was too confused and messed up to deal with the situation properly.

When he felt a sudden warm, comforting hand take hold of his, however, he held onto it, tightly, and Tony was smart enough to keep his mouth shut.

"I forgot," Loki said with a soft chuckle after what must have been five minutes of silence. He focused on the feeling of Tony's thumb rubbing soothing circles into the palm of his hand. "It doesn't like magic."

Tony's ministrations fell still, which shouldn't be peculiar, but it_ was_ and Loki found himself glancing up to meet Tony's eyes. "What's wrong?" He asked.

Tony shook his head. "Nothing."

"Tell me," Loki pressed on. He pulled his hand from Tony's only to bring it up to the side of Tony's face, his fingertips gingerly brushing the soft skin there. "Don't make me knock you off of the bed again." He'd wanted to sound light and carefree, but who was he kidding? He looked like hell and he felt like it, too.

"It's not a monster growing inside of you," Tony explained, his gaze falling to Loki's stomach – something that had Loki bursting with fury last time, but now … now Tony had such a soft expression in his eyes that Loki couldn't quite fathom. "It's our child, our _baby_."

He swallowed heavily, unsure what to do with Tony's words. "What are you saying?"

"I never thought I would be a father one day," Tony confessed, his words causing Loki's hand on his face to fall motionless. Green eyes narrowed, unsure that this was a conversation he wanted to have. "I certainly didn't think I would become a parent with you, but this is happening and I'm willing to face it. I just don't think that you are."

"It's killing me, Tony," Loki said through gritted teeth, his green gaze suddenly growing cold and distant, because Tony wasn't helping. Not at all. His hand dropped to his lap, balled into a tight fist, and his heart raced within his chest. Anger and helplessness surged through his veins, because look at him! He was bedridden, unable to use magic. He was weak and what for? "I've never been more vulnerable, more frail!"

"And that's a bad thing?" Tony asked and Loki admired how calm he sounded. It did nothing to temper his anger, however, and Loki felt moments away from strangling the Man of Iron with his bare hands. He didn't need magic to kill him.

"Yes!"

"I can protect you."

_Oh no, he didn't_. Loki physically recoiled and Tony was smart enough to stand and step away from the bed, his brown eyes wide with realization of what he'd said, but it was too late. He'd said the words and he could not take them back. Tony swallowed heavily, sorrow and regret filling his eyes.

"Loki, I am sor–"

"Get out."

A heavy silence filled the room, green eyes furiously piercing sorrowful brown ones. Tony didn't move and for a moment, Loki considered using magic anyway, fully prepared to face the dire consequences, but somehow he couldn't. He didn't have a grip on himself anyway. He was breathing hard, his fingers itching to break Tony's bones – Tony who stood so very still.

"I said _get out_!" He screamed, feeling sick to his stomach. When Tony still didn't move, he angrily lifted a hand and shot fire at the mortal man, forcing him to jump aside. Pain instantly consumed his body, but he was too focused on his fury to give into it. "_Get out_!"

Tony fled from the room, and Loki collapsed a second later, curling into himself and willing the pain away, but it was pointless.

-/-

When Thor arrived in the hallway on the first floor of Stark's mansion, he had not expected Tony to be sitting just outside of his bedroom, a large mug of coffee placed beside him and one of his square, oversized Stark-phones balancing on his knees. His head was leaning back against the wall, however, his eyes closed and for a moment Thor thought the mortal to be sleeping, but his heavy footsteps had alerted Tony of his arrival, a pair of tired brown eyes opening and focusing on him.

"Stark," Thor greeted him, unable to hide the surprise in his voice. It was well after midnight and he hadn't expected Tony to be sitting there, though he didn't know _what _he had expected. Had he thought Tony would sit with Loki, sit at his bedside? Unlikely.

Languidly, Tony pushed himself onto his feet, the Stark-phone nearly falling to the floor, but Tony had exceptionally good reflexes for looking so exhausted and caught the phone before it could crash to the ground.

"Hi," Tony said, shoving the phone into the pocket of his jeans. He rubbed a hand over his face, then, trying to rub away his weariness. "I hadn't expected you back so soon."

Thor smiled faintly, though it didn't really reached his eyes. "How is he?"

"Ah, yes, Loki, your brother," Tony said, rambling. Picking up his mug of coffee, he took a large gulp, his face screwing together for a moment. Thor doubted it was _pure _coffee the mortal was drinking, but he couldn't blame him. Thor felt like he could use something strong, too. "I wouldn't walk in there if you don't actually need to."

Thor raised one eyebrow, but said nothing.

"You know, for being a Frost Giant," Tony explained, "He sure does love fire."

"I see." Thor turned towards the door of the bedroom and inhaled sharply, knowing that he had no choice but to face his younger brother, to face his anger and animosity. He would be lying if he said he wasn't afraid, or at least nervous, because he remembered the last time he'd seen Loki – frenzied, ill, _dangerous_. Loki was unpredictable and treacherous.

"Did you …" Tony suddenly began as Thor lifted a hand to knock on the door. He didn't finish his sentence, however, when a pair of bright blue eyes focused on him. Instead he swallowed and rubbed hand to the back of his neck. "Did you find answers? Do you know what's going on?"

"I do," Thor replied truthfully, "But I should talk to Loki first."

"Yeah, yeah, of course," Tony sighed, hesitating somewhat, his hand dropping away from his neck, "I'll be right here I suppose."

Thor inclined his head, then knocked on the wooden door in front of him, twice, but without waiting for a reply – chances were slim Loki would willingly let someone enter anyway – he walked into the dimly lit bedroom, carefully closing the door behind him. His gaze instantly locked onto the form of his brother, finding him sitting in the armchair tucked away in the corner of the room. His legs were pulled up to his chest, long arms wrapped tightly around his knees.

When they had been children, Thor had often found Loki sitting like that in his chamber in the Asgardian palace, though most of the time he had been reading a book, but that wasn't the case now. For so long now, Thor had looked at Loki, seeing nothing but the god of mischief wanting to destroy all that he held dear, but now … _now_ Thor saw his little brother again, scared and sick, with dark circles around his eyes and ghostly white skin.

Knowing that his question was pointless and unneeded, he posed it anyway, his voice soft and gentle. It had been years since he'd spoken to Loki in this way and it was strange to think it made him feel slightly uncomfortable.

"How are you feeling?"

The reply was a raise of eyebrows and emerald green eyes staring intently at him. Loki shifted in his seat, his arms moving to cross before his chest and his feet finding solid ground.

"Swell," Loki said sharply, not a hint of amusement in his voice.

In all the years that he had known Loki – having grown up together, played together, fought together – never had he seen him like _this_. He couldn't wrap his head around it, couldn't fathom it, nor understand it. Now more than ever, Loki appeared impenetrable, high walls having been resurrected around him and for the first time Thor understood there might only be one person on this earth that could break through those barriers – and that person was waiting outside, fearful, concerned, which was another thing he didn't understand, but now wasn't the time to let his thoughts wander to that subject.

Clearing his throat, he stepped further into the room, only coming to a halt as he reached the end of Tony's king-sized bed. Loki continued to stare at him, calculated, eyes narrowed as if he was prepared to disappear from the room in the blink of an eye – he probably was. Thor knew he had to be careful with his words and deeds.

"I have spoken to our father–"

"_Your_ father," Loki corrected as always, emerald green eyes instantly darkening, but Thor would never stop calling Odin _their_ father, no matter how long and hard Loki denied it. Before he could speak more, Loki's pale lips curved upward, forming a razor-sharp smile that held no warmth at all. "Did he laugh when he heard of my predicament?"

"Of course not," Thor replied without missing a beat. He sat down on the edge of the bed, knowing that a long, difficult and tiresome conversation lay ahead – a conversation he would have never thought to have in the first place. There truly was no right way to tell Loki the truth. "Father did have answers. He knows what is … wrong."

"There is a child growing inside of me, Thor," Loki said petulantly and Thor was glad for the space in between them. He could feel the hostility radiating from his brother and he knew there was an actual palpable chance he could get hurt, though it was a chance he was willing to take. "_That_ is what's wrong."

There was no easy way to deliver the news, to explain to Loki what Odin had told him, and there certainly wasn't a possibility that Thor could predict Loki's reaction. His heart was hammering within his chest and tension kept his muscles captive, but Thor couldn't turn back now.

"If you continue like this," He said regretfully, "Your child will die."

Whatever reaction he had expected, it didn't come. Loki just stared at him, his gaze unreadable, and his composure unchanging. Thor waited for a moment, allowing the silence to settle between them, hoping that Loki would say something eventually, but that didn't happen. Loki's gaze simply fell away from him, focusing on the floor instead and Thor had no idea what on earth that was supposed to mean.

"Loki?" He asked carefully when the silence continued.

"What are you saying?" Loki asked, his voice surprisingly soft.

Thor swallowed heavily and forced himself to keep talking, to tell his brother the truth. "You are Jotun," He said, unable to ignore how Loki cringed at the sound of his words, "You have always been capable of carrying children, but …" There truly were no words for this. "When you were found by our father–"

"–_your_ father–"

"–he put a spell on you," Thor continued as if Loki had said nothing at all, "He performed a charm to make you look Asgardian, to make you feel like you fitted right in, like you belonged in our family – and you do," He ignored the snort that came from Loki, "But for as long as that spell is kept intact, your child cannot grow inside of you, because your body cannot adjust. Every time you use magic, it harms you, because it's your body attempting to use that power to change, but you are not allowing it."

Slowly, Loki lifted his gaze to meet Thor's. He was breathing heavily, nostrils flared and hands balled into fists beside his body. "You don't know what you are asking of me," Loki said and while Thor wanted to believe that Loki's voice sounded calm and controlled, there was no denying that rage laced his words.

"I do know," He said, "And I'm sorry."

Silence.

Then – a low, but loud laugh came from Loki's lips, but his smile never reached his distant, cold and bitter eyes. Now more than ever, Loki was dangerous and unpredictable, and Thor fought the urge to back away, to leave this bedroom, but he refused to abandon his brother. He knew Loki needed him no matter how hard he would deny it.

"You do _not_ know what you are asking of me, Thor," Loki repeated, shaking his head. He stood from the armchair and began to pace the floor, eyes focusing on his feet. When he reached up to run a hand through his hair, Thor spotted the tremble to his limbs, but he said nothing about it. He said nothing at all. "You are asking me to turn into a monster," Loki continued and with every word he spoke, he grew more angry, "You are asking me to become an abomination, and for what? A child growing inside of me?"

A feral growl came from Loki's lips. "Am I supposed to love it?" He asked suddenly, spinning around to look at his brother, "How can anyone expect me to love a child when I'm nothing more than a villain, a power-hungry god that would stab you in the back if it meant I could have the throne of Asgard!"

Thor still said nothing which evidently annoyed and angered Loki at the same time. He turned his back on Thor, growling. He stood still now, his hands balled into fists, knuckles having turning white, and Thor wasn't sure whether Loki was still breathing or not.

"I am sorry, brother," He said, though his words did nothing to change Loki's behavior or composure. Before he could say anything else – though he didn't know what he _could_ say – Loki turned to face him again, emerald green eyes wide and frantic and feral.

Thor was momentarily taken aback.

"Leave," Loki hissed.

Slowly, Thor stood, gazes locked with Loki. "This is your decision, Loki, but–"

"Of course it's my decision!" Loki snapped.

Thor nodded, though he couldn't help himself, couldn't prevent himself from saying, "Please talk to Tony." Much to his surprise, some of Loki's tension slipped away from him, his emerald green eyes softening, fists disappearing.

Without saying another word, Thor turned around and walked away, knowing that Loki would need a moment to himself.

-/-

He was sitting on the edge of the bed when the door to the bedroom opened again, but Loki didn't need to look up to know it was Tony who was approaching. He could recognize those footsteps anywhere, could recognize the sound of his breathing, the rustling of his clothes, and Loki didn't want to spend too much time wondering when exactly all that had happened. When had he come to know Tony so well? How could he have ever allowed it?

Tony came to sit beside him on the bed and Loki let him, though he didn't raise his gaze to meet the mortal's. He didn't know what he would find in those dark brown eyes, but he was sure he wouldn't like it. He didn't want his pity, his sympathy, or his concern. He certainly didn't want his tenderness and affection. He had no need of it.

Or did he?

Shaking those thoughts away, Loki found that his breathing had quickened, Tony's company having that strange effect on him. Loki desperately tried to regain control over himself, but no matter what he tried, he still felt his heart racing within his chest, as if trying to claw its way out, leaving nothing but a black hole. Loki would actually prefer that. Wouldn't it be easier to feel nothing at all?

The silence continued for a while, but Loki had no issue with it. No, he welcomed it, because he knew that as soon as Tony would open his mouth and break the silence, all might be ruined. He was an idiot after all.

"Is there anything I can do?" Tony asked, sounding soft and gentle and kind, and Loki wanted to be furious with him for saying those words, for saying them like that, for saying anything at all really,but he lacked the energy and will. He just wanted to sit there, Tony beside him, another fact that surprised him. Since when did he _enjoy_ Tony's company in times as difficult and _ridiculous _as these?

"There is nothing," Loki sighed tiredly.

A hand suddenly covered his, making Loki's sharp gaze snap to his hands lying in his lap when he felt Tony's touch upon them. Fingers curled around his and Loki should shake them off, should burn Tony for the act, but then he remembered it would be unwise to use magic, not unless he enjoyed agony ripping through his body – which he didn't.

"I can't make a decision now, not yet," Loki heard himself say, hating the way his voice quavered near the end. What had become of him? When Tony's grip on his hands tightened, Loki found that he merely held onto the touch which felt like an anchor keeping him place, keeping him from losing his mind.

"Then try tomorrow," Tony said.

Loki nodded absentmindedly.

"Let's just try and catch some sleep," Tony offered, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into the palm of Loki's hand – Loki who kept telling himself to pull away, to curse Tony for showing such compassion, but did nothing in the end. He let out a breath he hadn't known to be holding.

He would welcome sleep, welcome the oblivion and darkness it brought with it.

-/-

But sleep never came.

As Loki lay in Stark's bed, the mortal man curled up beside him, snoring softly as if nothing had happened at all – a thought that made Loki want to strangle the man in his sleep – he found that the tightness to his chest just wouldn't go away. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get his mind to settle, his thoughts to silence.

Thor's words echoed through his mind, over and over again as if accusing him. _Your child cannot grow inside of you, because your body cannot adjust_.

Perhaps it shouldn't be given the chance to grow, Loki thought bitterly. Would it not be a monster like he was? Would it have his black heart? His rage? He tried to imagine a child in his arms, perhaps one with Stark's dark eyes, but the image merely frightened him, causing his heart to skip a beat, his breath to falter within his lungs.

Loki could handle war and battle and death. He reveled at chaos and enjoyed the sound of screams around him, especially those of his enemies, but this … _this_ he could not handle.

Carefully, as not to wake Stark, he slipped from underneath the covers, the cold floor beneath his bare feet driving away all faint traces of exhaustion. When he stood, however, he suddenly heard the rustling of sheets behind him, causing him to halt.

Stark's sleepy, concerned voice made him close his eyes, knowing that the mortal would soon hate him. It pained him to think Tony would curse his very existence.

"Loki, is everything alright?"

Slowly, he turned toward Stark, taking in his disheveled appearance, his worried gaze. Loki could hardly breathe. There was much he wanted to tell the mortal. There was much he wanted to ask of him, too, forgiveness being one thing.

"I am sorry, Tony."

"Loki, what are you–"

And then he was gone, vanished into thin air, only to reappear on the other side of the country, completely alone, agony ripping through his body, causing him to fall to his knees. He wrapped one arm around his stomach, praying to whatever god still listened to him to take away the pain, the hurt.

"_I'm truly sorry._"

**TBC ...**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I hope you guys are still digging it! Again, I want to thank the awesome Greenloki for being the best beta in the world!**

**The Lover That Went Wrong**

**- Chapter Three -**

"This is not good. This is _not _good!"

Tony shrieked as he deviated to the left, fire bolting toward him, blue flames hot enough to actually melt his suit – which in Tony's opinion was cheating. So perhaps his plan had flaws, but he was the kind of man that liked to learn by trial and error, and this particular error would be filed under '_never-piss-off-an-Asgardian-you-don't-know_'. It should be a lesson he learned a long time ago, really.

"Jarvis?"

"_Power's at fourteen percent, sir_."

It was going to be a close call, but if he ended up winning this match, he deserved a fucking medal! How long had he been fighting now? Two hours? Three? With back-up he could easily take out the woman standing before him – the woman who shot another bolt of blue fire toward him – and _seriously_, what was it with all the fire? What had happened to good old fashioned bullets or swords since Asgardians liked those so much?

Heat spread through his suit when Tony hadn't been able to jump aside quickly enough. At the moment, the suit protected him as much as it slowed him down which was another nasty side-effect of magic.

"Argh, that's hot," He muttered, "And not the right kind of hot."

Lifting a hand, he shot a beam of pure energy at the Asgardian woman, only to find that she vanished into thin air, the energy connecting with a building across the street, rubble instantly falling down. Thank goodness the civilians had been evacuated, and thank goodness Fury wasn't around to witness this. The one-eyed pirate would smack his face into the ground for causing so much destruction. Then again, this wasn't entirely his fault, was it?

The woman reappeared directly behind him a moment later, which was another one of those irritating quirks Tony filed under cheating. A slender hand closed around the neck of his suit and the woman squeezed, the metal creaking dangerously. Tony could only swallow heavily. _Oh-oh_. Vivid green eyes pinned him down even though she couldn't actually see him.

"Do you surrender?" She asked sharply.

"Not really, no," Tony easily replied, fully aware of how breathless he sounded. He had meant to shoot another bolt of pure energy at her, her proximity working to her disadvantage, or so he had thought, but the blonde merely pushed aside his suited arm and threw him to the other side of the street.

When his back connected with the building behind him, Tony felt the last remnants of air being knocked straight out of his lungs.

He was in trouble.

_Big trouble_.

Glancing up, he found that the woman loomed over him – _cheater_ – with a gaze that spoke only of irritation and determination. She was done playing. She going to kill him and Tony had no doubt that she held such power, but he wasn't going to lie down for her, roll over and _die_. He was far too stubborn for that.

Feeling the metal of his suit close around his throat as she continued to choke him, it became damn hard for Tony to breathe. He tried to knock her away from him, tried to shoot whatever he got left of firepower, but the woman merely growled.

He needed stronger firepower, something that would–

She was violently knocked away from him, the whooshing of Mjolnir trailing after her.

A shaky breath left Tony's lips.

The Captain's voice echoed through his suit.

"_Stand back, Stark._"

It wasn't an order Tony liked to hear, but he simply didn't have enough air in his lungs to protest, nor did he have enough strength left in his muscles to join the fight between the woman, Thor and Steve, but he wasn't particularly ashamed of that fact. He did just fight with her on his own for close to – he glanced at the clock in the top right corner of his screen – one hour. _Huh_, he could have sworn it had been longer.

Turning to witness the remainder of the battle, Tony expected the whole ruckus to be over soon, what with the God of Thunder having joined the club, because while the woman might be strong and magic, there was just no possible way she could beat Thor.

Only there was no fight and the blonde was nowhere in sight anymore. _Wimp_. She probably ran off the moment Mjolnir knocked all seven bells out of her.

Turning to face his teammates, Tony flipped open the mask of his suit, the cold, fresh air helping him drive away his exhaustion.

"What took you guys so long?" He asked as soon as he knew the others could hear him. Part of him was relieved that his tiredness wasn't audible in his voice, though he wondered just what his friends – more like acquaintances really – were seeing right now. He probably sported a few bruises to his face, maybe even a few cuts. He'd definitely lost a part of his eyebrow.

_Fucking magical fire_.

"What the hell, Stark?" Steve asked angrily, coming to a halt before Tony. He switched his shield to his other hand and for the shortest moment, Tony really thought Steve was going to punch him.

"Uhm, you're welcome?"

Steve's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You really thought you could take her on by yourself?" Nope, he was definitely not happy.

"Honestly, I don't even know who _she _is," Tony defended himself, rolling his eyes, which he shouldn't have done because he had a headache and now he had a few back spots in his vision, "Fury called, said a woman was destroying half of the town and I decided to show my good heart and put a stop to it. I couldn't have known she was Asgardian."

"You should have waited for us," Steve argued.

Ignoring him, Tony decided to focus on Thor instead. "So who is she? Another Asgardian hell-bent on taking over the Earth or is she more original than that?"

Thor shook his head as he focused on Tony – Tony who didn't miss the concern in his royal blue eyes. "Her name is Amora," He began, voice steady as always, his gaze shifting between Tony and Steve, "She is also known as The Enchantress. I do not know her business here on Earth, but it will not bode well for us."

"I see," Tony sighed.

"Does she work alone?" Steve asked, glancing around as if he was expecting another attack soon.

"She has a few known allies, one being–" No other words came and Tony felt how Thor's gaze landed heavily upon him suddenly. That was just great. Fantastic. _Brilliant_.

"You can say his name, guys," He muttered.

Steve awkwardly cleared his throat. "So she often works with Loki."

_Loki_. The name should do nothing to him, but Tony felt his chest tighten painfully anyway and wasn't that just ridiculous? He wished he could curse the name, curse the man _behind _the name, but Tony couldn't. He should be angry and hate him, he should feel his blood boil when thinking about him, but none of that happened. He only felt … numb, and perhaps that was for the best. It was less distracting

"Yes," Thor confirmed Steve's comment, "Though their last partnership was decades ago. It would surprise me if they were working together now."

"Then he doesn't matter," Tony said and he was well aware that those words had sounded just a bit too sharply to be ignored. When both Steve and Thor threw him concerned glances, he stared back at them, unwavering, _challenging_. "Let's just get out of here, okay? Amora will show up again and if she does, we'll be ready for her."

Neither Thor nor Steve dared to say more.

-/-

Tony was _this _close to grabbing the small device lying before him and throwing it against the wall. The mere idea of hearing it shatter into a dozen pieces pleased him, but then all of his work from the past few days would have been for nothing, and Tony never liked wasting time. No, he just had to find his focus again and keep working on it. All he needed was a breakthrough and he could get the weapon working.

Footsteps behind him distracted him, however, and one glance over his shoulder had him groaning in aggravation. It wasn't that he hadn't appreciated seeing a familiar face, but for whatever reason Steve had decided to come down to the workshop, Tony could already tell he wasn't going to like it.

"Here you are," Steve said kindly as he strolled into the spacious room. Curious eyes took in everything around him, but Tony doubted Steve knew what half of this stuff was for. On the other hand, Steve was smarter than most gave him credit for and he'd found the hang of his new life pretty easily. He'd even gotten the hang of the microwave!

"You sound surprised to find me here," Tony said. He kept his gaze fixed on the gun-shaped weapon before him, fingers swiftly connecting a few wires that had gotten loose during a flunked test.

"Actually, I'm not," Steve replied casually – _too _casually. Hands ghosted over several tools lying on a workbench to Tony's left and when he came across some old Chinese take-out he pulled a disgusted face. "When was the last time you left this place?"

Tony glanced up and narrowed his eyes for a moment, focusing on nothing in particular. "When did we fight Amora?"

"Four days ago."

"There's your answer then," He grinned. He began working on the weapon again, only to be zapped by low-current electricity when he wrongly connected two wires. It didn't hurt that much, but it did manage to draw a disgruntled '_fuck' _from his lips–

–which Steve diplomatically ignored. "That does explain your dire need of a shower."

Did he smell that bad?

He smelled that bad.

Silence hung in the air for a moment and Tony didn't like it one bit. He looked up to find Steve staring at him, those bright blue eyes taking in every detail of Tony's appearance, and like hell was he going to let that happen, but before he could speak up, the Captain stepped forward until he stood at the opposite side of the workbench, his hands disappearing into the pockets of his jeans.

"Listen, Tony–"

"Don't _Tony _me."

Steve remained unfazed. "We're concerned."

"Who's we?"

"All of us," Steve replied with a tight voice. The hands in his pockets visibly turned into fists and Tony had to try his damn hardest not to break into a grin as he spotted Steve's unease. "You've been holed up in this basement for _four _days, Tony, even you've gotta admit that's not particularly healthy."

"You drew the short straw, didn't you?" Tony asked. He leaned back into his chair and crossed his arms before his chest. He could already tell that Steve hated every second he spent down here. _Good_. That meant he wasn't going to bother him again in the future.

"That doesn't matter. All that matters is that I'm here as a concerned ally, a concerned _friend_. The stunt you pulled with Amora could have gotten you injured or worse, and now you're locking yourself away in here. You should be glad we didn't stage an intervention."

"Why thank you," Tony said, voice dripping with sarcasm which earned him a nasty glare from Steve, but _whatever_. He wasn't done being a dick just yet, however, not until Steve decided to leave him to his business. "You can spare me the lecture, Cap, I know what I'm doing. In fact, you should be thanking me because I'm working on a new weapon and if I can get this to work we'll never have to worry about an Asgardian again."

Steve's eyebrows shot up with abrupt interest. "Oh, really?"

"Yes, really, so don't be so skeptical," Tony replied sharply. He didn't like to be doubted, but then again, it was the cynics that had always driven him. Seeing their disappointed faces as he proved them wrong over and over was what helped him sleep at night.

Only Steve had to ruin it all. "So are we talking about any Asgardian or a particular Asgardian?"

Tony's lips curled upward in a sneer. "You had to bring him up, didn't you?"

"Everyone knows that this is about Loki, about the break-up with you and–"

"I'm not sure we can technically speak of a break-up," Tony easily interjected. His heart was thumping violently within his chest and he hated that the mere idea of Loki provoked such a strong reaction. "The guy left and we haven't heard of him since. That was three months ago so something tells me that we don't have to worry about him for a long time to come."

Steve said nothing to that which Tony found even worse than any argument he could make.

"I'd like to focus on this again," Tony said with a voice that was much too soft to his own liking. He motioned to the device lying before him, though his gaze stayed locked with Steve's. "If I can get this working, and if I can get Thor to agree to do some tests, I could save us a lot of trouble in the future."

"Okay," Steve said, nodding. He stepped back from the workbench with a smile that was too sad and Tony wanted to wipe it from his patriotic face. "I'll leave you to it then, but do take a shower soon."

"Yeah, yeah."

-/-

Tony had decided a long time ago that life was unfair, but today life was just being a bitch. Not only had his new weapon blown up half of his workbench during a test, but a certain Asgardian harlot had decided that today was a perfect day for another attack as well. So Tony, side by side with Natasha for the moment, was busting his ass off trying to minimize the damage to the city while Thor was battling it out with Amora.

Rubble littered the streets and people were still scurrying around, panicked and screaming. Tony was just about to shout at a group of four men to head for the subway when a blast of fire knocked him off of his feet. Natasha hurried to his side.

"She hates me," He muttered, though loud enough for Natasha to hear him.

"She hates everyone," Natasha replied with half a smirk to her face. They considered themselves lucky that Amora didn't have an army to back her up – not yet anyway – and while it was still unclear what her game plan was, they had come to the conclusion that she needed to be stopped anyway.

Jumping back up to his feet, Tony glanced to the left side of the street where he witnessed Thor knock The Enchantress away and into a nearby building. The concrete cracked as her back violently connected with it.

"Where is Hawkeye?" Tony asked as he focused back on Natasha. Thor could handle Amora. "And the Captain?"

"They're one block down, trying to get more civilians to safety," Natasha answered.

A high-pitched cry drew their attention and Tony whipped his head toward the sound, witnessing as Amora got blasted by a particularly nasty bolt of lightning. She was going to make Thor pay for that and _oh_, there was her favorite kind of fire again. Thor took to the sky, barely avoiding getting burned alive, although Tony doubted Thor could actually get burned that easily.

"Oh, my God," Natasha muttered beside him. Her hand shot up, pointing to the top of a building to the south. "Stark, look."

He shouldn't have looked up.

He should have focused on the fight between Thor and Amora because then his stomach wouldn't have dropped to the ground, his throat wouldn't have closed off and he wouldn't feel cold sweat covering every inch of his body. It was an utterly ridiculous reaction and he hated it, but there wasn't anything he could do about it.

Loki had no attention for Tony as he stood on top of a tall building, emerald green eyes intently focused on the battle between his brother and Amora – the battle that was coming to a close because Tony could tell Amora was seconds away from splitting. His raven hair whipped around his face because of the wind, but otherwise he stood entirely still. Too still. Like a statue.

"I have to talk to him," Tony said before he could stop himself. He didn't know what he was doing, but then again, he never knew what he was doing when it concerned _him_. As he powered up his propellers, he watched Natasha step closer to him, her arms wrapping tightly around his torso.

"I'm coming with you," She said. She pursed her lips and after one terse look, Tony knew he couldn't change her mind.

"Hold on."

Landing on the roof of the building, Tony spotted the sudden tension in Loki's shoulders, but the God of Mischief didn't turn around to face him just yet. It was strange how after everything, Tony felt like they were enemies again so by all sense and reason, he should try and take him out, arrest him, do _something_, but he felt frozen in place. He hadn't been this close to Loki in over three months and it did something to him.

It was Natasha who spoke first, a gun firmly in her hands, though she didn't take aim just yet. Everyone knew bullets couldn't harm Loki anyway. "We should have known to find you here," She said.

"Is that so?" Loki's voice sounded dangerously calm and when he finally turned around, his gaze fixed on Natasha, he had a cold smile in place. Emerald green eyes revealed nothing and Tony wasn't used to seeing him like that anymore. Last time Loki had been vulnerable, but right now he seemed to have reverted to his old, deadly self.

Clearing his throat, Tony drew Loki's attention to him and for the first time since he landed on this roof, those lethal green eyes locked onto him. It bothered him that Loki didn't falter while he did. "So you're working with Amora," Tony said and he praised the heavens that his voice didn't shake, "Very predictable. I suppose you don't wish to divulge your plans with us?"

A chuckle came from Loki's lips and for a split second, Tony liked to believe sincere amusement lay in his smile. He was fooling himself, though. "I'm not working with her," Loki said, shrugging, "I just came to see what all the fuss is about."

A heavy thud behind Tony diverted his attention away from the Trickster for a split second. Thor had joined them, Amora having fled the scene. When he looked back at Loki, Tony found nothing but annoyance in Loki's pale, sharp features.

"Are we having a little reunion?" Loki asked tightly.

"Brother, what–" Thor began, but then he stopped abruptly. Blue eyes narrowed, obviously taking in Loki's appearance – not that he looked special in Tony's opinion. He had no idea what was going on, but Tony witnessed as Loki stepped back, green eyes taking in his brother with nothing short of trepidation.

Well that was unexpected.

"This was fun," Loki said, all fake grins and charms falling away from him, "Only it wasn't."

Right before Loki could turn away from them, before he could conjure up enough magic to whisk him away from this place, Tony witnessed with horror and shock in his eyes as Thor grabbed the gun Natasha held and fired it at his brother.

_What the hell?_

Even though he'd managed to throw up a force-field in time, Loki fell back, and Tony wanted to rush toward him, but a hand on his suited arm held him back. He was _this close _to shooting off Thor's face when he saw Loki crawl onto his knees and hands, his back turned toward them, and Tony could tell something was wrong. Perhaps the force-field hadn't worked after all? Maybe Loki had been shot by his own brother and he was bleeding out?

But when Loki spoke, his voice sounded cautious, tentative. "However did you know, _brother_?" He asked like poison dripped from his tongue. He stood, and even though Tony could only see his backside, he could tell Loki's entire body was frozen with tension, with absolute fury.

"I know you better than you think," Thor replied calmly.

A frigid chuckle sounded and then slowly, Loki turned to glance over his shoulder, only Tony's gaze didn't lock with emerald green eyes. Instead, he found a pair of crimson eyes, and Tony felt a shiver run down his spine, he felt coldness spread through his bones. It was like being submerged into a tank with ice cold water because Tony couldn't breathe or move. He couldn't even speak.

He could only stare.

"Well, shit," Natasha muttered.

When Loki turned to face them completely, there was no denying it anymore. He was still very much pregnant.

-/-

Never before had he seen him like this and Tony knew it was rude to stare, but he did it anyway because _fuck Loki_ – figuratively for a change. Crimson red eyes stared right back at him, though unlike Tony's gaze, they revealed nothing. Tony just didn't bother to hide his anger and betrayal, his bewilderment and shock, but Loki's blue skin didn't help Tony's cause. He wanted to be pissed at the Norse god, he wanted to scream at him and curse him for everything he had done, but at the same time he couldn't help feel extremely fascinated.

He wanted to reach out and over the table separating them to feel his skin, to trace the markings that covered him. Would it be cold? Tony distinctly remembered Thor talking about frostbite when discussing the Frost Giants and since Loki was one of them, did that mean he would get burned when touching him?

"How much longer are you going to sit there and stare at me?" Loki asked when the silence between them hit the thirty-minute-mark. They hadn't really spoken since Loki had been brought here, to Stark's kitchen. "Because we're treading awkward-territory."

"I'm going to stare at you for however long I deem necessary," Tony replied with a strangely strangled voice. He watched as Loki nodded once and leaned back in his chair, his blue hands casually folded together on the surface of the table. Tony hated that he appeared so calm, but then again, looks could be deceiving. He knew Loki well enough to realize that while he seemed relaxed, he was probably anxious and nervous.

Or maybe not.

The silence continued for a few more minutes while Tony desperately tried to straighten out his thoughts. He had so many different questions, but they were all drowned by one in particular: Loki had lied to him. It shouldn't be surprising really. What on earth had he expected? Of course Loki would lead him to believe their child had died. Of course he would run!

Tony decided it was time to break the silence when Loki seemed seconds away from standing up and leaving – _again_. And he could leave. No-one was keeping him here, though Tony suspected Thor might try and wrestle him to the ground. Although … Loki _was _pregnant. Then again, Thor shot him only an hour ago.

"What does The Enchantress want?" Granted, Tony could have asked a better and more important question, but his anger was preventing him from thinking straight. Sue him. "Why does she do these random attacks?"

Loki narrowed his eyes and for the briefest moment, Tony thought the guy was going to lunge over the table and go for his throat. "You are asking me information about Amora?" Loki's voice sounded cold, detached, and_ lethal_. "No how are you doing, Loki? How is the little kicker inside of you? No when is he due?"

Tony felt his heart flutter within his chest and he wanted to hate the feeling, but he couldn't. "_He_?" He echoed. "It's a boy?"

Loki eyed him for a moment. "Yes," He answered, "Healthy and strong, loves to kick the hell out of kidneys."

A smile curved the edges of Tony's lips upward, no matter how pissed off he wanted to stay at Loki. Bottled up anger slipped away from, but his confusion remained. It pleased him to hear that their son – he would never get used to that idea, _their son_ – was doing well, but Tony was still left with questions.

Leaning forward, he placed his forearms on the table surface and folded his hands because now didn't seem like the right time to reach for Loki's hands and just hold them. If he did, it might be the last time he ever had hands.

"Why did you leave?" He asked, wishing he could sound a little stronger than that, "Why did you make me believe the child had died?"

Loki's lips turned to a thin line before he spoke, his crimson eyes never wandering away from Tony's face. "I didn't _make _you believe anything," He said, "I just _let _you believe it."

"Why?"

"Why do you think?" Loki asked with a sudden pained, but loud voice.

Tony remained silent because honestly, he had no answer to Loki's question.

"Look at me, Tony," Loki said much more calmly now. He threw himself back into his chair, his hands falling uselessly in his lap, and for the first time Tony could clearly see the curve of his swollen belly. Six months now he had been carrying the child and Tony did wonder how much longer it would take, but he didn't voice that question. "I'm a monster," Loki continued, true disgust in his voice.

Tony frowned. "Do you think I care about the way you look? You think I care about the color of your skin? The color of your eyes? Those markings?" He stopped when Loki lowered his gaze, though not in a defeated kind of way. More in an I'm-silently-planning-your-murder kind of way, but Tony was an idiot and he never knew when to stop talking. "I didn't fall for you because of your green eyes – although you do have stunning eyes. Still, I didn't fall for your dark hair either, or the way you can bend in bed. Seriously, are all gods that agile and lean?"

That earned him a quick glance, but Loki somehow seemed less lethal.

"I fell for you because you're Loki and you are dangerous and you aren't to be messed with," Tony continued, knowing that he was probably risking his life again right now, "I fell for you because you don't take anyone's shit, mine included, because you are as screwed up as I am, but you're fierce and stubborn and intelligent and–"

"Stop talking if you wish to keep your tongue," Loki snapped.

"Why are you here?"

The question confused Loki, his red eyes narrowing, his body tensing. "What do you mean?"

"I think the question is pretty unambiguous," Tony said. He fearlessly met Loki's gaze which was a neat accomplishment since Loki seemed closer to bursting with rage as seconds ticked by. "There is no-one stopping you, Loki," He said, "No-one is forcing you to be here, but you're still here anyway and I want to know why."

Loki clenched his jaw together, the line of his cheekbones sharpening.

"Well?"

"I'm not working with Amora," Loki said, and _hell no_!

"I don't care about that bitch," Tony vented. He shifted in his seat. "Now answer my question."

"I don't have to answer anything," Loki replied with his ever so smooth, yet razor-sharp voice. He looked so smug again, so confident, and Tony hated it because he couldn't keep up with the guy once he got started. "I don't have to _explain_ anything. Like you said, Stark, I can just walk out of here."

"Yeah," Tony said, miffed. _Still_, "But you won't."

That seemed to put Loki in place, but it only caused more questions to flood Tony's mind. "Why didn't you disappear up on that roof? Why didn't you vanish when Thor ruined your illusion? Why, after everything, are you still sitting there?"

"Because all of this is fucked up," Loki bit out, eyes wide and chest heaving as he sucked in a deep breath to steady himself. He looked away from Tony, his hard gaze focusing on the wall to his left. Obviously he was trying to get his emotions under control and _obviously _he was failing. Tony felt kinda pleased that he had managed to break through Loki's barrier.

"There is a child growing inside of me," Loki said after a long silence. He still didn't look at Tony. His voice sounded tense and he seemed only seconds away from ripping out Tony's throat. "An _actual_ child and I have no idea what to do, what to expect. I don't even know if it's healthy or growing a second head!"

It was an idea Tony didn't want to entertain for too long. Clearing his throat and reached forward, only to stop himself right before he actually took hold of Loki's hand. He dropped his hand, uncaring of how awkward it lay in the center of the table. "There are SHIELD doctors that could run some tests to make sure–"

"If one SHIELD doctor so much as touches me," Loki said lowly, his gaze pinning Tony down, "I will cut off their hands."

But for some unexplainable reason, Tony decided now was the good time to be stubborn. "If one SHIELD doctor so much as pokes you wrong," He said, his voice holding nothing but promise and a warning, "I will cut of their hands for you."

There was a silence, but it wasn't heavy or uncomfortable. It was just there and for the first time Tony didn't think Loki was planning his murder. It was a nice change.

Eventually, Loki nodded once, though he didn't seem entirely satisfied about his decision. "Fine," he said curtly.

**TBC ...**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Greenloki, you are the best beta anyone could have. You made this story a thousand times better! Thank you for supporting me and for asking this to be your birthday-story! I'm having a blast with it!**

**The Lover That Went Wrong**

**- Chapter Four -  
**

"What does that do?" Loki didn't bother hiding his dismay or curiosity. It made the doctors around him edgy and nervous and he had laughed for five minutes when one had dropped a syringe just because he'd winked at him. How easily thrown off guard mortals were! But he had cut it out after Tony had asked him to – though he wasn't sure why he'd stopped playing around with the mortals inside the medical room. Perhaps he just wanted to get this examination over with as quickly as possible. Being inside a SHIELD facility agitated him, made him feel nervous no matter how many times Tony had promised him that nothing would happen to him. He might be the god of mischief and lies, but it was these SHIELD agents that weren't to be trusted.

"The technique I'm going to use is called obstetric sonography which basically means that I'm going to make an ultrasound," The doctor preparing the device explained. He was one of the few that didn't seem close to having a nervous breakdown around Loki. He didn't even avoid looking into his crimson eyes. It led Loki to believe he was a more seasoned employee of SHIELD, one that wasn't scared so easily. Perhaps he had dealt with worse than a pregnant Frost Giant. "It will allow me to create an image of your child so we can see if he's growing well."

With narrowed eyes, Loki watched as a nurse lifted his linen shirt and exposed his expanded belly. More lines marked his skin and he could tell she stared at them for a moment. He was seconds away from flicking some sparks of electricity at her – surely that would have her screaming and running to the other end of this world – when she suddenly poured cold gel onto his skin. The coldness was a surprise since he was in his frost giant form, yet it was there and it made Loki hiss. It was official now. He hated that nurse but before he could do anything, like turn her into a mouse, she stepped back and the doctor replaced her.

The doctor pressed a small probe to the skin of his lower belly and for the briefest moment nothing happened. Loki could feel his chest tighten, afraid that something was wrong, but then the screen of the machine lit up and Loki found himself staring at the image. His child. He could recognize tiny hands and feet, little arms and little legs. He spotted the neck and a little round head. But most of all he _heard_. The child's strong heartbeat echoed through the room and Loki didn't know what to think of it, other than he found it strangely soothing.

His attention was diverted to his left side when a warm hand covered his own. Warm brown eyes connected with his crimson ones and Loki watched as the edges of Tony's lips curved upward in a kind, uplifting smile. For a moment, Loki dared to believe that Tony seemed happy, but he wasn't naïve. He wasn't foolish enough to believe that they could have happiness together.

"Everything looks fine," The doctor said, drawing back Loki's attention.

Loki stared at the screen again, witnessing the actual beating of his child's heart. He swallowed away whatever emotions were threatening to overtake him.

"It's a boy, but you already knew that," The doctor smiled.

Loki could only nod. He hadn't actually been certain that the baby was a boy, but somehow he'd had a feeling, like instinct telling him and trying to assure him that all was well. Still, seeing the image of the child on the screen comforted him. No two heads. Just one healthy boy. Loki wished he could see more details. Would it have blue skin like him or pink like Tony? Would he have red eyes or brown? Would he have his mischief or Tony's bravery?

The nurse wiped away the gel with a few paper-towels before pulling Loki's green shirt back down. She avoided looking into his eyes and while that would have Loki gritting his teeth earlier, he couldn't care less now.

"You're six months pregnant," The doctor continued, "Calculating by the length and weight of your baby, I would say you'll have to carry for another three months, like a normal, human pregnancy. I'd like to make another ultrasound in four weeks' time. Would that be okay?"

"Yes," Loki replied.

Loki shifted his legs over the edge of the bed and stood. A part of him liked that Tony instantly came to stand by his side while another part wanted to shove him aside, possibly make him trip and see him land face-first on the floor. He decided to just ignore him.

"Thank you, doctor." He wasn't one to thank mortals, but this doctor had eased his mind. At least now he could relax and perhaps … enjoy his time with the child inside of him.

-/-

Silence and darkness surrounded him and while Loki would once have enjoyed that, he couldn't anymore. If it didn't remind him of his time alone, traveling unknown worlds, falling into Thanos' hands, it reminded him of his seclusion in Asgard. It reminded him of centuries of isolation, left in shadows, ignored. For the briefest moment he'd had something else, a moment of hope, of clarity, light, but Loki had destroyed that. Not only had he left Tony, but he'd come back and destroyed his life, too. Wasn't that what he had done? Destroyed Tony's life? That man was destined for greatness here on earth, and now he was stuck with a child of his former mortal enemy.

Loki felt like he had tainted Stark and while that once made him marvel, he now felt … guilty. Or was he making too many allusions? Delusions? He couldn't deny the way Tony had looked at him earlier that day, smiling, with warmth in his eyes. While he felt he had ruined Tony, ruined all that he was and could be, he knew that Tony would disagree. Perhaps that was what irritated him most of all. He reveled at destruction, reveled at the sight of people crumbling beneath his touch, but Tony hadn't crumbled.

Sighing, Loki turned to lie on his back. The bed lay comfortable and the sheets were soft, but he just could not fall asleep. The boy kicked then, hitting Loki's kidney with mesmerizing precision, and Loki sucked in a deep breath in an attempt to cope with the sharp pain. He still wasn't used to having life within him, to feel the boy so active while he was still so small.

_Life_. He hadn't thought it possible that he could even produce life. He had thought his legacy within the Nine Realms would be nothing but carnage and ruin. _Ragnarok. _He had a chance to change that now.

With one hand, he rubbed his swollen belly, hoping that it would soothe the child within him and it seemed to help. But it didn't soothe him. He continued to lie in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling while his thoughts drifted to Tony. The man was probably snoring loudly, lost in a dream world where he had no thoughts of Loki or the child.

He cursed Tony.

Throwing aside the sheets covering his body, he climbed out of bed with less grace than he liked and silently padded across his room or again, not that silent. He was heavier than usual after all and swiftness was a skill he'd lost a long time ago. One advantage of wearing his natural Jotun-form was that he could see better in the dark, but Loki quickly decided it was the _only _advantage.

He slowly made his way down the hall and after a moment's hesitation he snuck into Tony's bedroom. Silence met him and Loki briefly thought the mortal wasn't there – which wouldn't surprise him since Tony liked working during the night – but then the sound of calm, steady breathing reached his ears.

Still cursing him because it became harder and harder to understand just what effect Tony had on him, Loki made his way toward the bed. He lifted the sheets and crawled underneath them. Tony's breathing faltered, indicating that he had woken, but he said nothing and for that, Loki was grateful.

As he lay down his head down on the pillow, he felt Tony's arm snake around his waist, his hand coming to rest on the round curve of his stomach. Tony's body was pressing up against Loki's and for some peculiar reason, Loki felt his muscles relax and his mind quiet down.

"Goodnight, Loki," Tony whispered, his voice thick with sleep.

Loki said nothing in return.

He fell asleep minutes later.

-/-

There was no denying that Thor was watching him, that his blue eyes were studying him, and whenever Loki glanced up, Thor quickly focused on something else. It was ridiculous really. He had no talent for subtlety. For the longest time, Loki had tried to ignore him – which was a remarkable feat in his opinion – but now it was working on his nerves. Thor was centuries old, yet now and again, he liked to behave like a child apparently.

Snapping shut the book he'd been reading, Loki tossed it across Stark's living room, the edge of the book hitting Thor's forehead with exceptional precision. He cared nothing for Thor's pained '_aw_' as he rubbed the sore spot.

"What was that for?" Thor asked, sounding hurt and possibly insulted that Loki had actually managed to throw a book at his head. He was still rubbing his forehead and Loki smiled triumphantly when he spotted the redness of his skin.

"Stop staring at me and tell me what's on your mind," He said sharply. It wasn't that he particularly cared about Thor's thoughts – it surprised him he had those in the first place – but perhaps it would end his irksome gaping.

"Nothing," Thor replied in his usual calm and collected voice. He dropped his hand and leaned back into the chair he sat upon.

"Nothing is on your mind?" He asked non-believing.

Loki crossed his legs beneath him and folded his arms before his chest. The child inside of him was twenty eight weeks old and his belly was growing every day. It became harder to maneuver around unnoticed which was a shame, but Loki was slowly growing used to it. In fact, he was starting to discover certain advantages to his bigness. For one, he just had to call for Tony and the mortal would bring him any food he requested, and how wonderful it was to balance a cup on his rounded stomach as he watched TV – one of the better inventions by these humans.

"You have always been a terrible liar."

Thor hummed as he stood and walked closer to Loki. He took a seat opposite of him on the couch, his elbows leaning on his knees. His gaze remained fixed on his little brother and Loki wasn't sure he liked the way Thor was looking at him right now. He just had that sort of thoughtful look on his face that told Loki that whatever came from his mouth next, he would dislike it.

"You've changed, brother," Thor said and Loki was instantly catapulted back a few months. It was the second time Thor said that to him and while the first time had had him burst into menace, this time Loki merely stared at his brother as he let the words crash into his mind. They were true after all, weren't it? If his new bodily state wasn't proof of that, then nothing was. "You seem happy," Thor continued, "And that makes me happy."

Biting down on his tongue, Loki tried his best to think of something to say, something that could possibly hurt Thor, that would have him leave, but he could think of nothing. So he smiled the kind of smile he knew Thor loathed. It wasn't a real one, but a defensive one, and nothing but mischief and caution and ice cold menace filled his gaze.

"How naïve you are," Loki spoke, "You still believe in happy endings, don't you? You still believe that the creature sitting in front of you is your brother and–"

"You _are_ my brother," Thor interjected before Loki could say more.

Growling, Loki pushed himself up and stood. It was at times such as these that he wished he had more agility. He wanted to flee the room and for a moment he considered teleporting away, but magic still demanded a lot of his body and he didn't want to risk the health of the child. _And would you look at that_? Loki hated how he suddenly thought so protectively about the boy within him. Could it be he loved it? It was hard to fathom.

"I don't believe in fairy tales anymore," Loki said after a heavy silence, "I have believed one my entire life and look what that did to me." He glanced down at himself, not at his round belly, but at the color of his skin, the markings lacing it. "The illusion of a home, of a family …"

"It's only an illusion in your mind," Thor replied. He looked up at Loki who despised the sincerity in his brother's voice. "You have a home and you have a family. And now you are here and–"

"And what?" Loki snapped. Every word Thor spoke hurt because a part of him knew they were the truth – a truth he had been denying for so long. "I have a chance to start my own family? You think a son will have me abandon my old ways?"

"Perhaps."

Loki shook his head. "Then you truly are a fool," He said and just because he hated Thor for confronting him with distressing veracity, he lifted his hand and shot a stream of green flames into his direction. Thor threw himself over the couch in an attempt to protect himself – which was successful – but Loki never meant to harm his oaf of a brother.

He'd only sought distraction which he used to escape the room.

-/-

The roof had become his favorite place of Stark Tower. Not only did it provide a moment of solitude, but it gave Loki a wonderful view of the city that allowed him to imagine its destruction. He tried to remember how much time had passed since he'd tried to destroy New York with his army of Chitauri, but it seemed ages ago now. He couldn't tell whether it had been a year or five years. Time meant little to him. It did make him wonder if one day he would try and destroy it again, or was Thor right? Would his son make him change his ways? He somehow doubted it, but it was … plausible.

After all, the child hadn't been born yet and already Loki thought of his safety and protection first. Already he only wanted what was best for the child. It was only logical he would grow up here, close to Tony, and thus Loki couldn't risk burning down the city, no matter how much satisfaction he would get out of it.

Those thoughts frightened him as much as they soothed him.

A door slid open behind him, but Loki needn't turn around to know who was approaching. He could recognize Tony's footsteps anywhere.

When Tony came to stand next to him, he gazed out into the city like Loki – though he probably wasn't imagining its destruction – and stayed quiet. Loki wondered if he had spoken to Thor, if he would have the nerve to talk to him about it. Loki was close to finding out and a part of him was already boiling with anger. He was not in the mood to hear Tony defend his friend.

Only … Tony said nothing of Thor.

"We should start thinking of names."

Loki turned to look at Tony with wide, confused eyes, but before he could say anything, he felt Tony slip his hand into his and hold it tightly. The mortal shuddered at the coldness of his hand, but he didn't withdraw. He never did.

His brown eyes glistened with emotions Loki hadn't felt for a long time. Happiness. Excitement. Joy. _Love_. Loki wondered whether he felt love for him or for the child. Could it be he felt it for the both of them?

"Names?" He asked.

Tony nodded once. "Yes, names," He repeated. His thumb was rubbing soft circles into his blue skin. "And we must think it through because the boy will be stuck with it for the rest of his life. So no … Anthony, no matter how flattering it would be."

Loki snorted – the sound genuinely amused. Again he wondered why it was so easy for Tony to break through his defenses, but he had stopped trying to rebuild those walls once they had crumbled.

"I would never call the boy after you."

Tony's eyes widened with feigned insult. "What? We're going to call him after you?"

"Definitely not!" Loki found himself smiling and for the briefest moment he considered wiping that smile off of his face, considered pulling his hand out of Tony's, but for what? He was only fooling himself and Loki grew tired of it. Perhaps it was for the best if he learned to accept that he liked it here, that he enjoyed being in Tony's company, that he loved the child within him.

They were heavy thoughts.

"I'll have Pepper pick up some baby-name-books," Tony said. His free hand reached up to brush aside a few strands of Loki's raven hair and Loki didn't even pull away. "I bet he'll have your good looks. Hopefully he'll inherit my astonishing intellect."

Loki laughed. "You're awfully full of yourself."

"When aren't I?"

"I hope he has my magic," Loki said softly. He could already imagine himself teaching the boy spells, watching as green sparks of energy flitted from the tips of his little fingers. He couldn't help but be reminded of his time with Frigga. She had taught him everything he knew about magic and it was a legacy he intended to pass on to his son.

"And my talent for mechanics," Tony smiled.

Every muscle in Loki's body relaxed. There was no need for facades and he felt like he could let all the walls crumble around him. For once he didn't have to think about protecting himself, about keeping up a certain image, about keeping people at bay. No, he allowed Tony to get close to him while he knew it was a risk, but for now, it was a risk Loki was willing to take.

Tony lifted his hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, his lips warm against his cooler skin. Loki could only stare at him and wonder why out of all the men and women worshipping the great Man of Iron, Tony Stark had chosen to kiss _his_ hand. It was a question Loki didn't want answered just yet.

Things were good as they were.

He wanted to keep it that way.

-/-

Wetness was the first thing Loki experienced as he got out of bed that morning.

For a moment he paused to look down, finding a peculiarly red spot between his legs, but Loki's mind wasn't working properly because he couldn't process the information, couldn't understand what it meant.

A sharp pain shot through his lower abdomen and he gasped for air. His hands reached for his belly, clasping it as if he could touch the boy inside of him and hold him, soothe him.

He frantically looked back to the bed, knowing full well that he would find it empty since Tony was always gone by the time he woke, and the sight of more blood staining the sheets made him feel nauseous. He needed to think, but for some reason his thoughts were jumbled as panic moved around him like a claw pinning him down.

Finding help was his priority, that much he knew. He tried to step toward the door, but more pain shot through his lower stomach and Loki hissed as he tried his best to keep breathing. This was not good. This was _not _good.

Breathing was the key.

He had to stay calm.

His next step was easier, though the sharp pain remained. Slowly he managed to make it the door and into the hallway. He knew Tony was down in the basement, in his workshop, tinkering away on whatever he had invented lately, but Loki knew he would never make it all the way down. Black spots already dotted his vision and Loki once again reminded himself to keep breathing.

This was a kind of pain he had never before experienced. It wasn't nearly as bad as falling through a black hole, feeling like his limbs were torn from his torso again and again. It wasn't nearly as bad as The Other tormenting him with physical and psychological torture. But this… _this _was a pain more terrifying than he had ever conceived possible.

"Thor?" His voice sounded weak and fragile, and Loki just couldn't find the strength or energy to speak up. "_Thor_?" Why was his brother not around when he needed him? He had been watching him like a hawk, but now he was nowhere to be found. Typical! Loki cursed his brother's very existence for it.

And why wasn't Tony around? He always showed up at the most random of moments, but now he was gone and for once Loki wasn't afraid to admit that he needed him.

His heart was racing within his chest and he could hear his blood sing in his ears as panic overwhelmed him. He was bleeding and there was pain and he knew he was in trouble. His son was in trouble.

He took another step forward, toward the staircase, but the feeling of blood trickling down his legs made him stop. Movement wasn't helping.

He had to stay calm.

_He had to stay calm_.

"Jarvis?" He should have called for the artificial intelligence sooner. Why hadn't he thought of it sooner? His thoughts were scattered. He couldn't think properly, confusion and fright clouding his mind. He couldn't breathe properly either.

He blinked away the black spots that grew with every passing second.

"_Yes, sir_?"

"Get help," Loki breathed.

He didn't make it to the end of the hallway. One hand frantically pressed against the wall as he tried to steady himself, but his legs gave out from underneath him and he slid to the floor. More pain shot through him and Loki felt tears well up in his eyes. He didn't force them away and he didn't bother hiding them.

"Damn," He muttered when he understood he couldn't get up anymore. He tried to think of what could be wrong, tried to think of a spell that might fix all of this, but his magic wasn't useful at the moment. It was already coursing through his veins, doing its best to keep him awake. "Damn it. Jarvis, tell them to hurry!"

"_Yes, sir. I have also alerted SHIELD medical base. An ambulance will be here in three minutes."_

"Good," Loki said. He licked his lips and forced himself to take in deep breaths. He had to stay calm because panic would only lead to more pain. He imagined that his son's heartbeat was much too fast, too, and he was still so small, so fragile.

Footsteps sounded in the distance – or perhaps not too distant because Thor appeared at the top of the stairs a second later, nothing but worry lacing his features as he spotted Loki sitting against the wall, a pool of blood surrounding him.

Loki tried to focus on his brother, tried to understand the emotions flitting across his face, tried to hear what he was saying as he ran toward him, but he still sounded so far away. His magic was failing, too.

"Brother?" Thor knelt down before him, one hand cupping the back of Loki's neck, his thumb rubbing comforting circles into the side of neck – at least, Loki thought they were meant to be comforting. They did very little to soothe him.

He couldn't breathe properly and he momentarily wondered if Thor could hear his heart pounding within him for it was beating so ferociously. "I don't …" The black spots of his vision grew. "… know … what is wrong, Thor."

"It'll be okay, brother," Thor assured him. He was trying to make him feel better, but he failed. His blue eyes lowered to take in the blood staining Loki's clothes and the ground beneath them. He had no clue what to do and Loki didn't blame him.

He didn't know what to do either.

That scared him most of all.

Almost out of nowhere, Tony's face entered his vision. Loki squeezed his eyes shut for a second, wondering if Tony would still be there when he opened them again. He was and he could feel Tony's hands coming to rest to the sides of his face while Thor's touch disappeared. Tony touched him so gently, like he was afraid he would shatter into a thousand pieces.

Perhaps he would.

"Loki, you have to breathe," Tony said softly.

Breathe? Oh. Only now did Loki realize that he had been holding his breath since Tony had appeared. He parted his lips and tried to suck in a deep breath, but it was impossible. His body no longer seemed to listen to his mind. He shifted and more pain shot through his lower abdomen. He sucked in a shuddering breath, his hands reaching up to grab Tony's wrists, to hold onto him.

And then Tony smiled at him and Loki didn't understand how Tony could even manage to make his eyes fill with such warmth and compassion.

"Okay, you're doing great, Loki," Tony told him. Oh, he was trying to calm him and comfort him. "Take in deep breaths. You have to calm down."

The black spots grew bigger and while Loki tried his best to keep focused on Tony, to take in his worry-filled eyes, he found that darkness was pulling him under. But he fought and he wanted to tell Tony that he was fighting with all the strength he still had left, but his voice seemed lost.

"Okay, not that calm," Tony said, his voice faltering. His grip on Loki's face tightened and he no longer bothered to hide his fear, his panic. "Loki, stay with me. You have to–"

Darkness consumed him.

**TBC ...**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Hi, guys! I feel like an extra warning is in place for this chapter (and the next ones). Obviously, I can't just give Tony and Loki a happy ending (not right away at least), so I'd say some delicate themes lay ahead such as having to cope with the loss of a (unborn) child. I know, I said no actual child would die, but please keep reading if you want to know what I meant by that. This is one angst-filled chapter, so enjoy!**

**The Lover That Went Wrong**

**- Chapter Five -**

Silence and darkness were the first things he became aware of and Loki decided he quite liked that. Calmness settled over him, making every muscle of his body relax, and he wanted to remain in this state for just a little while longer before he would open his eyes, before he would abandon bliss and return to the harsh reality that was his life.

Beside him, he could hear someone's soft breathing and if he listened intently, he could hear a steady heartbeat, too. Mortals were always so obnoxiously loud after all. It was ridiculous to believe that he could actually recognize Tony's heart rhythm, though, or perhaps he was simply growing sentimental. Then again, who else would sit beside him if not Tony? The feeling of Tony's warm hand resting on his own, their fingers intertwined, made Loki's chest fill with peculiar warmth, but he refused to admit that he enjoyed the intimacy shared between them.

Finally, like drops of water seeping into his mind, he remembered what had happened. He remembered blood running down his legs, remembered losing his strength and falling to the floor. He definitely remembered Tony's soothing hands to the sides of his face and brown eyes filled with panic and dread and fear for the health and safety of their son.

Slowly, Loki opened his eyes, blinking a few times to chase away the daze that still clouded his mind. His grip on Tony's hand tightened and for one brief moment he expected Tony to pull away from him, but he didn't.

Tony only shifted in his seat leaned closer toward him. "Loki?" He asked. His warm breath brushed Loki's hair.

Carefully and with uncontrolled movements, Loki placed his free hand on top of his stomach – his frightfully _flat _stomach. Gone was the swell of his belly and the soft curves to his body. A shuddering breath fell from his parted lips as he tried his best to understand what had happened, but for some reason, he had trouble making sense of anything.

Turning his head aside, Loki gazed at Tony who didn't greet him with his usual kind, but stupid smile. The softness to his features had disappeared and he looked tired, his gaze speaking only of sadness and misery, and not even when Loki spotted the dark red circles around Tony's eyes did he understand.

"Where is he?" He asked with his throat dry and sore. He didn't have the strength to speak up.

Tony reached out and brushed aside a lock of his raven hair. "They had to perform an emergency C-section," He began to explain, sounding weary and cautious, "The placenta had ruptured which is why you lost so much blood. The doctors here tried their best, Loki, but the boy was so small, too small …"

Loki could only stare at Tony while the words settled in. His breath became trapped inside of his chest and tears stung the corners of his eyes. They threatened to break free, but Loki held them back because crying was pointless. Crying was for the weak. Besides, he had no reason to cry. Tony was being an asshole, messing with him and pulling some sick–

"He didn't make it," Tony added and he spoke so softly that Loki knew he wasn't lying.

"_No_," He breathed.

"I'm sorry," Tony said. His fingers caressed the side of Loki's face, the gesture so gentle and kind that it should comfort him, but it didn't.

Loki didn't pull away, though, his body seemingly frozen, a sharp pull to his heart threatening to tear him apart. It felt as if someone was trying to rip open his chest and tear his heart clean out of his chest.

"You lie," He accused sharply.

Magic surged through his veins, filling him with such heat that it physically pained him. Or perhaps the pain came from somewhere else. Loki didn't know, didn't understand, because he had never felt this before. He could only feel as the magic searched for a way out, and he let it. He produced a pained sound, almost like a feral, wild howl, as the magic radiated from his body.

The windows behind him cracked before shards of glass suddenly flew through the room. A rush of cold air whirled around him and then he felt Tony's body press against his as he lay in the bed to protect him from the glass.

"I'm sorry," Tony whispered again, his lips brushing Loki's raven hair. His hands came to rest to the sides of Loki's face, his thumbs rubbing soft circles into his cheeks. If he felt the tears streaming down Loki's face, he said none of it. "I'm so sorry, Loki."

"No, you_ lie_!" Loki screamed in response. He hadn't been able to stop the way it faltered at the end.

He would give anything for Tony to be an asshole right now, for him to straighten his back and laugh at him, telling him that he hadn't meant a word he'd said, that their son was safe and healthy and alive, but Tony merely held him. His arms were wrapped so tightly around him that Loki let himself melt into the embrace.

And he cried.

Sobs ripped through his body and he reached up to grab hold of Tony's shoulders. His fingers dug so deep into his skin there that he knew he was giving him ten bruises, but he didn't care and he knew Tony didn't care either. He just cried and he clung to him like he clung to dear life itself because nothing around him made sense anymore. He felt like gravity itself had disappeared, along with reason, and Tony was the only thing keeping him anchored into reality, into sanity.

Minutes passed. Perhaps hours. Loki honestly didn't know.

Eventually, Tony lay down beside him on the hospital bed, and Loki pressed his face into the crook of his neck, seeking his comfort, seeking something familiar that could help him calm down enough to breathe again. Tony's fingers rubbed gentle circles into the skin of his neck, reminding him over and over that he was still there, that he wasn't going to let go of him before Loki asked him to, and Loki didn't.

"I would have named him after my mother," Loki whispered eventually. He couldn't stop the tears from streaming down his cheeks, but finally he had enough grip on himself to form coherent thoughts and to voice them.

"After Frigga?" Tony asked quietly.

"Yes." His hold on Tony softened, his fingers slipping from his shoulders and curling around his wrist before letting his fingers slip in between Tony's, intertwining them. He liked the physical contact they shared, just like the grief and pain they now shared. The thought was enough to make his breath hitch within his chest. "_Fredric_."

He could hear Tony's heartbeat racing, wild and unpredictable, like a storm. "That's a beautiful name," He said, and Loki could tell he wasn't lying. He could also tell he was trying to stay strong for him and he didn't know why he disliked that.

Tony pulled away a few inches, and Loki turned his head to find Tony gazing at him with wide, brown eyes full of sorrow, heartbreak and pain.

"Tony, I'm so sorry that–" Loki began, but then he felt Tony's lips against his.

The kiss was slow and filled with a kind of longing Loki hadn't experienced before, but he liked it, he _needed _it, and when it ended, Tony pressed another kiss to the top of his head.

"Why would you be sorry?" Tony asked, confusion lining his grief-stricken face, "None of this is your fault, do you hear me?"

Loki stared hard at him.

"I saw him," Tony continued before Loki had to chance to speak. He picked up Loki's hand – his pale, pink hand, and Loki didn't bother to wonder when exactly Odin's charm had falling back in place – and caressed the back of it. "I saw him for just a second and he had soft, pink skin and dark hair. I could tell he would have looked like you. _You _you. He would have been beautiful–"

"But he's dead," Loki snapped. He didn't miss the way Tony flinched at his words, nor did he miss the anguish in his eyes as Loki pulled his hand away from him. "And you can tell me whatever you want, but the truth remains that I had to keep him safe for nine months and I couldn't even do that."

"It's not–"

"I want you to go," Loki said. He leaned away from Tony, his hands pushing against Tony's chest and if he was about to fall out of bed, Loki couldn't care less. "Get out."

"Loki …"

"Get out!" Loki screamed. He watched as Tony hesitated, watched as he stood up and stepped back. His brown gaze lay heavily upon him and Loki cursed him for it, cursed him for making his chest fill with guilt because he could not deal with that, too. He could not deal with anything right now and most of all he wished he could return to that darkness and silence.

_Oblivion_.

For a moment nothing happened.

Then Tony opened his mouth to speak, but Loki didn't give him the chance. He lifted a shaking hand, the various pieces of glass scattered around him rising with it. He didn't actually want to hurt Tony – he'd hurt him enough already – but the threat alone was enough, because Tony left.

And Loki cried.

-/-

His breath left condensation on the glass.

The sky above him was completely dark with thick clouds shifting before the stars, concealing them, and Loki liked to believe that there were no stars up there, that Earth was the only realm in this vast, cruel universe. He gazed up at the darkness through the window and for a short moment he felt completely alone as he stood in Stark's living room.

There had been a time where he hated the loneliness and seclusion, where he had been jealous of Thor and his friends and had been envious of the laughter they shared, but now isolation was all Loki craved, the silence around him calming him and allowing him to hear his own thoughts for once.

Footsteps approached.

Loki sighed. At times he wondered why he didn't just leave. Wouldn't that make everything easier? But something was keeping him here – and Loki knew exactly what that something was, or better yet, _who _that something was, but he still lived in denial and he was okay with that for now.

"Here you are." Tony's contours were reflected in the window that stretched from floor to ceiling. Loki gazed at his reflection and watched as Tony stepped closer toward him, his arc-reactor casting his face in a soft blue hue, the light accentuating the dark circles around his weary brown eyes. "Come back to bed," He said when he stood right next to him.

Tony's lips pressed against Loki's bare shoulder, making Loki shiver even though warmth spread through his veins at the touch. It confused him more than it angered him. And when Tony's hand slipped into his, Loki realized he should pull away, but he didn't. Perhaps he no longer had the strength to fool himself.

He no longer had the strength for anything anymore really.

Turning his head, he found Tony so incredibly close that he knew they were sharing the same breath. He could see the dark circles around his eyes more clearly now even though the only light in the room came from his arc-reactor. He could see the torment filling his features, too.

"How beautiful you look when wrecked by my hand," He murmured.

Tony tensed, his grip on Loki's hand tightening.

Reaching up, Loki brushed Tony's cheek with the tips of his fingers. He wondered if Tony had cried before he had finally found enough courage to leave the comfort of his bedroom. He wondered if he had cursed him before pulling himself together and coming down here to find him. Perhaps he had hoped _not _to find him and maybe that would have been better.

"I'm not wrecked by your hand," Tony replied, and Loki didn't miss the strange tightness in his voice, "You haven't broken me."

Loki's fingers traced the sharp line of Tony's jaw before he leaned forward and kissed him, his tongue lining the seam of his lips. Tony stiffened for a moment and then Loki could feel him relax beneath his touch, a soft moan coming from somewhere deep within him. Loki smiled against his lips when he heard that sound. Tony was the kind of man that liked to be in control and Loki was the kind of man that enjoyed ripping that control right out of his mortal hands.

"Give it more time," He whispered cruelly against Tony's lips.

Brown eyes narrowed and grew apprehensive and suspicious. Tony's hand suddenly let go of Loki's to curl around Loki's wrist as Loki scraped his nails down the skin of Tony's neck.

"Stop it," Tony said, sounding breathless. Loki could feel Tony's rapid pulse beneath his touch and the corners of his thin lips turned upward, though the sentiment never reached his emerald green eyes. Loki knew it was the kind of smile Tony had come to hate more than fear.

Tony pushed Loki's hand away, obviously disliking the way their contact had grown from intimate to ominous. _Malevolent_. Loki scraped his nails across the skin of Tony's neck, leaving three thick scratches, blood instantly welling up and trickling down Tony's throat.

Quickly stepping back, Tony covered the small, stinging wounds with the palm of his hand. He stared at Loki, his breath coming from his lungs in short, wild pants. "I know what you're trying to do," He said and while he did his best to sound calm and in control, Loki enjoyed seeing how he was struggling to remain strong at the moment. Tears shimmered in the corners of his chocolate brown eyes and Loki ignored the sharp pain he felt to his chest as he witnessed them.

This was getting dangerous again. Walking around Tony, Loki headed for the door and with every step he took, he could feel his heart grow heavier and colder. He already missed Tony's warmth while he hadn't even lost it yet. Maybe he _wanted _to lose it.

"Running away won't help," Tony said before Loki could leave the room, "Pushing me away won't help either."

Gritting his teeth together, Loki stared ahead of him, into the darkness. That was all that lay ahead of him – darkness. That was where he belonged, where he felt strongest, and the mere idea that once he had believed to have a future here with Tony, that he'd had a chance for something better, was now utterly ridiculous.

"Go back to bed, Tony," Loki said, hoping that Tony had missed the frailty to his voice, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Loki, don't do thi–"

Nothing but darkness surrounded him as he left the room and closed the door behind him. He walked away, not knowing where he was going, and disappointment flooded him when Tony didn't come after him.

He didn't know what he had expected.

Loki hated it.

-/-

During the day, the house could get so loud.

At times Loki thought that noise was all that filled his head to the point where it drowned out all of his thoughts and while it brought some form of relief, of comfort, he mostly hated it. If he dared to forget what had happened two weeks ago for just one moment, he felt guilt move around his chest like a claw fastening around him, its sharp, metal hooks digging painfully deep into his lungs, piercing them and making it impossible to breathe.

There was always activity around him. If it wasn't his idiot of a brother and the Captain training, their shouts and grunts filling the house, it was Banner and Stark bantering like a couple of old wives. Occasionally, Fury would come by – which was new – and Loki always vanished when that happened for he hated that man more than was reasonable. And at times, it was Romanoff and Barton taking over Stark's mansion. If they weren't playing some ridiculously flawed game on Stark's game-console, they were watching an absurd movie that never made sense to Loki.

At times such as those, Loki wished he could return to the vastness of the universe. He remembered the time where he had fallen through a black hole and ended up on an unknown, lost realm. He had been all alone and it had frightened him, yet now he wondered if he could find that world again, its emptiness and coldness sounding appealing.

But Loki never actually went in search of it. Either he felt the time wasn't right or perhaps, just _perhaps_ there was still hope. He felt it in the way Tony would intertwine their fingers or in the way he would hold him or press his lips against his, softly, gently, _lovingly_. Loki hated that he loved it because whenever it happened, he found himself in a short moment of bliss before that claw appeared around his chest again, making him bleed.

With a burdened sigh, Loki left the bedroom in search of food. He wondered how long he had been holed up in Stark's room, but when he couldn't instantly think of the answer, he shrugged away the question. In the end, it mattered not.

Quietly, he moved down the hallway and for once he found the house silent even though it was the middle of the afternoon. Loki was just about to thank the gods when he heard voices drift toward him as he entered the corridor that would lead him toward the staircase.

All thoughts of food were long forgotten by the time he neared the room from which voices came.

"Hand me the screwdriver." There was a moment of silence. "You're doing it all wrong, Clint, so hand me the damn screwdriver right now or I'm gonna throw a hammer at your head. It won't be Thor's, but it'll still hurt like hell."

Curiously, Loki pushed open the door to find Barton and Romanoff standing near a crib that was stripped bare of the little mattress, sheets and teddy bears. Only the wooden frame remained and Loki watched with narrowed eyes as Clint was just about to take that apart, too.

The hinges of the door squeaked when Loki pushed it fully open, Clint and Natasha's gazes snapping toward him.

"What are you doing?" Loki asked, his voice low, an edge of menace to it. He had never made it a secret that he disliked the two agents, but then again, neither had they ever liked him. Sometimes Loki still suspected Natasha would appear by his bed in the middle of the night to slit his throat or that Clint would come and shoot an arrow through his eye-socket. Loki doubted he would try to stop them at this point.

Clint cleared his throat, his hand holding the screwdriver lowering until it hung awkwardly beside his body. "We didn't see you there."

_Obviously_. Loki's piercing green eyes shifted between Clint and Natasha for a moment until he let his gaze shift around the other items in the room – the nursery. This would have been his son's bedroom. That crib – now taken half apart – would have been where Fredric slept. Stuffed animals filled the boards lining the soft blue walls, a color Tony had picked out because he'd hoped it would have reminded the boy of the hue of his father's arc-reactor. Loki had never cared about that.

"Stark asked us to stow all … _this _away," Natasha explained and she pointed to everything and nothing at the same time. She exchanged quick, meaningful glances with Clint – glances that did not go by unnoticed to Loki, but he couldn't care less about the silent communication between the two agents.

Lifting a pale hand, Loki snapped his fingers. Magic warmed the air around him for a moment before, suddenly, the crib fell apart, the screws holding it together clattering to the ground. Loki watched as they scattered to every corner of the room.

Natasha and Clint didn't bother to pick them up just yet.

"Well, that helps," Clint said. His uncertain grey eyes fell on Loki in a way Loki thoroughly disliked. He could tell something heavy lay on Clint's mind – something of which he already knew he had no need to hear – but before he could turn around and walk away, Natasha voiced their shared thought – a thought that sent shivers of hostility through him.

"Loki, we're so sorry for your loss," She said.

Resentment and anger filled him, and hands became tight fists. "Why would you be sorry for my loss?" He asked bitterly.

Natasha seemed taken aback by his question and Clint merely eyed him in disbelief.

"We're not heartless," Natasha replied.

Clint nodded in agreement. He glanced at Natasha before focusing on Loki again. "We wouldn't wish this upon our worst enemy," He said and truly, the sentiment made Loki want to laugh. He didn't, though.

Instead, he just smiled icily. "And that is where you and I are different."

Natasha obviously weighed her next words carefully. "We don't–"

One sharp, ruthless look had her silent. "Don't think for a second," He began, his voice dripping with venom, "That anything has changed." And with that he stalked away. He didn't want to know their thoughts, their reaction. He couldn't care less about them. He just knew that with every passing day, he was postponing the inevitable.

It was time to close this chapter of his life.

-/-

Pulling back his head, Tony barely avoided getting punched in the face by a woman that was half his size. Honestly, getting his ass kicked by Natasha was humiliating. Actually, it wasn't. Tony suddenly remembered who exactly she was – a skilled assassin who has killed her way through life since she was eight years old until SHIELD had picked her up and gave her some more training.

Still, he didn't want to go down by her hand in the first five minutes. How mortifying wouldn't it be to be defeated so easily, especially with Thor standing nearby? No, he had a reputation to uphold.

Thor had his massive arms crossed before his chest as he observed the fight, his blue eyes focused on the way Tony and Natasha where moving around each other – Natasha who spun around, her red hair whirling around her face, and her foot connected to Tony's side who gasped sharply at the pain instantly spreading through his body.

_Fucking_ _hell_ that hurt!

Still, this was all part of their training. Just a bit of fun as Loki would put it. Truly, Tony did feel he was becoming better with every training session. And in any case, give him his suit and he had Natasha on her back in a matter of seconds. Actually, he would love to see how she would fight him then. It was something he'd have to test later.

Tony glanced at Thor, taking in his impassive features, and wondered what would happen should he fight the both of them. Tony had an inkling he would still be begging for his life in a matter of seconds anyway, wearing his suit or not. After all, Thor had proved himself again Iron Man before.

But right now Tony was well aware that he should keep his attention trained on Natasha. He had to focus on getting air into his lungs because her kick had landed against his ribs and Tony was certain the skin there would look black and blue by the end of the day. Taking a step forward, he lifted an arm and knocked his elbow to the side of Natasha's face.

She stumbled aside, a muffled groan escaping her lips, but her gaze remained focused on him, sharp and lethal. She placed her balled hands in front of her face, white tape wrapped around it to protect her skin. She was ready to either defend herself or punch Stark in the face. Knowing Natasha, it was probably the latter.

"He's leaving, you know," She said breathlessly all of a sudden. She circled around Tony, clearly searching for a weak spot in his defense – there were probably a few. She had spoken so softly, however, that Tony knew her statement was only meant for his ears, not Thor's.

"I know," He replied. She hadn't spoken his name, but he knew of whom she spoke.

He ducked when Natasha tried to land a blow to his head.

"You're not going to do anything about it?" Natasha jumped up, her legs twisting through the air as if she weighed nothing – she probably didn't – and her shins knocked against Tony's shoulders just hard enough to make him lose his balance and fall down. He was grateful the floor was covered with judo mats.

Rolling over, Tony jumped back up onto his feet and twirled around to have his eyes on Natasha again. The last thing he wanted was a foot to his back. "What can I do about it?" He asked tightly, the topic of conversation making him uncomfortable, because since when did he discus Loki with Natasha?

His left hand shot forward, Natasha easily pushing it aside, but the diversion was enough to allow Tony to actually punch her in the side. She winced but was otherwise unharmed.

"That's not the important question," She said, shaking her head, lifting her chin and somehow managing to look down at Tony while she was more than a head shorter than him. She took more distance from him, too, which gave her the chance to catch her breath, to figure out her next move. Tony knew he should be doing the same, but truthfully, thinking about Loki distracted him.

Glancing aside, he found Thor still watching them. He was frowning slightly and Tony knew he was only catching parts of the conversation that peeked his interest, but if he wanted to know more, he didn't bother asking.

"The important question," Natasha continued, "Is whether you _want _to do something about it." She tried to land another blow to Tony's jaw, but Tony darted aside and managed to kick the back of Natasha's knee, causing her to stumble forward.

Her red hair was beginning to stick to her face.

"Why wouldn't I want to do something about it?" Tony asked sharply. He wasn't sure he liked what Natasha was implying. Dropping his hands, forgetting about his fight position, he walked to the other side of the training-room and picked up his bottle of water. He took a generous gulp, the cold water filling him feeling divine.

"I don't know," Natasha said from where she stood, shrugging, "That's what I'm asking you."

"I lost as much as he did," Tony said. He didn't bother to keep the conversation quiet anymore. Perhaps it would be better to have this conversation somewhere else. He closed in on Natasha again, ready to continue their training. "He's the one pulling away from me," He couldn't help but add and it surprised Tony that the thought hurt him as much as it did.

Natasha's fist knocked against his side, but Tony hardly felt it. Thinking about Loki distracted him, but it also filled him with anger he gladly used to strengthen himself. He was faintly aware of how unhealthy that sounded. In any case, he shoved Natasha's hand aside and threw his elbow forward. It connected with Natasha's nose, her head snapping back due to the force of the blow.

In the corner of his eyes, Tony spotted Thor straightening his back. He seemed moments away from intervening, but there was no need for that. Tony stepped back and inhaled deeply, calming himself. Natasha gazed at him, nothing but disbelief in her eyes – not because Tony had gotten her so well that her nose was bleeding, but because Tony had managed to land such a blow in the first place.

"Sorry," He muttered.

Natasha shook her head. "Don't worry about it," She said, a faint smile curving the edges of her lips upward. She pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and pointer finger in the hopes of quickly stopping the bleeding. "You're getting better, Stark."

"We should call it a day," Tony offered, wiping away the sweat covering his brow. He knew Thor had hoped to practice a bit with them, too, so he turned to him to apologize only to find a certain dark haired god standing in the doorway, his hands hidden in the pockets of his linen green shirt. His emerald green gaze stood apprehensive and cautious – as always – and Tony could virtually see the protective walls building around him. The sight shouldn't make his heart stutter within his chest.

"Oh," Natasha said as she spotted Loki, too.

Thor turned aside, his gaze widening. "I did not hear you approach, brother."

"Clearly not," Loki smiled, but there was nothing warm about it. He stepped to the left side of the training room and picked up two thin, fifty inches long wooden staffs. He tossed one at Thor who swiftly caught it. "Let's train."

Thor looked dumbfounded.

Tony had no idea what was happening or going to happen either. Stepping back, he picked up his bottle of water and took another sip, glad to have something to do with his hands. He watched Natasha as she came to stand next to him, her gaze revealing that she didn't understand what was going on either.

"I'm not going to fight you," Thor said slowly, his gaze narrowing as he observed Loki who moved to the center of the training room, his knees apart, lifting his staff and moving into a defensive position.

"And why not?" Loki asked. Tony wished he could see the look on Loki's face, but he stood with his back toward him. Loki cocked his head aside, his raven hair falling behind his right shoulder. "Don't give me that look, Thor," Loki said angrily.

"What look?" Thor asked.

Even Tony knew what Loki was talking about.

"Like I'm made out of glass," Loki snapped. His muscles seemed rigid with tension. "Now fight me."

Nothing happened.

A strange sort of laugh escaped Loki's lips. It sounded too high, too sharp, too calculated. It was the kind of laugh Tony had heard before and he never enjoyed what followed. He could tell Thor was thinking alike. The god of thunder didn't raise his staff, however. He merely held it and Tony thought for sure he would toss it aside and just leave, but then Loki darted forward and slammed the end of his staff to the side of his brother's face.

"We've been here before," Loki bit out, "Remember what happened?"

The force of the blow had caused Thor's head to snap aside and he didn't return to look at Loki just yet. Tony could see the rising and falling of his chest, the rhythm just a bit too fast. He knew for certain Loki spotted that, too.

"Loki, that's enough," Tony tried. He should keep his mouth shut. He _knew _that. Who on this earth would think meddling in the affairs of _Norse gods_ was a sane thing to do? "Thor doesn't–"

Loki slammed the end of his staff to Thor's shoulder, but he never actually managed to make contact. Thor had lifted his own staff and blocked the attack, the sound of wood hitting wood echoing through the room. Tony wanted to intervene, wanted to pull Loki away from Thor to end this madness – because this was so clearly _madness _– but then he watched Loki spin around, his staff twirling in his hand. It struck against Thor's thighs.

Thor growled, his features warping with pain. Tony could tell that instinct was taking over as Thor took an angry step forward and beat his staff to Loki's arm. Tony held his breath as he heard Loki hiss in pain. Thor tried to knock Loki's feet from underneath him, but Loki hopped back and with swiftness Tony had never seen before, he watched as Loki's staff hit Thor's head.

Hard.

_Twice_.

Staggering back, Thor shook away the dizziness that clouded him. His grip on the staff diminished for a moment and that was enough for Loki to grab his chance. The god of mischief kicked the staff out of his brother's hands before he spun around and kicked the back of Thor's knees.

Tony felt his heart skip a beat.

Thor fell to his knees.

Bashing his staff to the back of Thor's head, Loki growled. "See, you're not better than me." His voice may be sharp, but it sounded broken as he said the words, and Tony felt a strange tightness to his chest as he witnessed Loki striking the back of Thor's head a second time. "You might be stronger, but you're _not _better than me!"

Loki didn't seem to be breathing anymore and his emerald green eyes spoke of nothing but pain and misery and fury. His cheeks were wet. "So why …" He began, his voice faltering, "… is your life so fucking perfect?" Loki continued to the slam his staff onto Thor's body, his movements frantic. Thor merely stayed down, making himself as small as possible, his arms lifted protectively around his head.

"I bet …" Loki was screaming now, "… you would never lose a son!"

It was time to end this. Tony rushed forward, toward Loki, approaching him from behind which was a stupid risk to take, but at least he managed to wrap his arms around Loki's shoulders. He pulled him away from his older brother, making it impossible for Loki to land more blows to Thor's body.

Loki threw the staff at Thor.

"Loki, stop," Tony said softly.

"I hate you, Thor!" Loki continued to scream. He was crying openly now – which told Tony enough of how screwed up all of this was. "You have no idea how much I _hate _you!"

Tony managed to pull him out of the training room and he kicked the door shut behind him with his foot. Only then did he dare to let go of Loki. The raven haired god stepped away from him and turned to face him, his emerald green eyes latching onto his. He looked nothing but extremely wounded and very much pissed off.

Loki stared at him, his chest heaving up and down.

Deciding to take a risk, Tony closed the distance between them again and placed his arms around Loki, embracing him and holding him tightly. Relief flooded him when Loki didn't push him away nor plant a dagger into his gut – because Tony didn't doubt Loki could conjure a weapon out of thin air.

Instead, Loki pressed his face to into the crook of Tony's neck, his fingers gripping the hem of his shirt so tightly that Tony thought it would rip for sure.

"Please don't leave," Tony breathed.

Loki said nothing at all.

**TBC ...**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: First of all, I want to thank everyone who left a review for the previous chapter. I was so nervous about it! But it seemed you all liked it, so that was a relief. Here is the sixth chapter and I hope you'll dig this, too. Enjoy!**

**The Lover That Went Wrong**

**- Chapter Six -  
**

Tony's hand was running up and down his arm, the tips of his fingers touching his skin ever so lightly. He was caressing him in a way Loki hadn't experienced in a long time. His mother used to touch his face in such a loving manner as she would push a lock of his raven hair behind his ear. Thor used to put a hand to his shoulder, squeezing it kindly, telling him they had survived yet another adventure together. If he was lucky, Fandral sometimes threw his arms around him in a drunken state, calling him a good friend, telling him he admired his sharp tongue.

None of that happened anymore, but now Tony was here to hold him and Loki didn't even want to imagine Tony's hand vanishing from his arm. He suspected he'd grow cold instantly.

Pressing his back against Tony's chest as if he were trying to disappear into him, he felt Tony's arm around his waist tense ever so slightly. His grip on him tightened as if he were afraid that should he let go, Loki would disappear. And perhaps he would. Turning his head ever so slightly, Loki felt the pillow beneath him shift. He found Tony gazing at him, his brown eyes filled with uncertainty. He seemed burdened and older. Loki knew it was because of him.

He watched as Tony leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his temple. It was such a warm gesture that it made Loki release a breath he hadn't known to be holding. Turning in Tony's arm, the sheets of the bed sliding away from him, Loki kissed Tony's lips, one hand moving upward to cup the back of Tony's neck, his fingers tangling with Tony's short hair.

When the kiss broke apart, Loki sighed. His hands moved to take hold of Tony's black shirt and he shifted his leg so it rested on top of Tony's. With his head resting against Tony's chest, he could hear his steady heartbeat. It sounded calm and peaceful and if Loki closed his eyes, he could feel the slow rhythm lulling him to sleep.

"You know I love you, right?" Tony asked quietly.

His grip on Tony's shirt tightened and Loki felt his breath falter within his lungs. "I know," he replied. But there was a difference between knowing and actually hearing those words. Whatever ignorance he'd been able to cling to was now gone. The words had been said and Loki – and Tony – could never ignore or deny them.

Tony continued to caress his arm, his chin now lying on top of Loki's head.

In the end, Loki didn't know how much time passed. He only knew that he had fallen asleep with the sky outside completely dark, and when he'd woken, the sun was peaking over the horizon, but Loki still lay in Tony's arms, cocooned in his warmth, his safety.

A small voice in the back of his head told him to get out now that he still could. One quick spell and he would find himself in a desolated realm, alone, like he should be. For one long second, he actually summoned the magic needed for the teleportation spell, but then Tony shifted ever so slightly and Loki felt himself pulling the sleeping man closer toward him.

How foolish he had been. Tony might be afraid that Loki would leave him, but Loki was just as afraid to let him go.

Ever so softly, he whispered, "I love you, too." And then he freed himself of Tony's arms wrapped around him. He wasn't strong enough yet to leave and he couldn't bear the idea of Tony waking up to find him gone so he just got up from the bed and headed into the bathroom.

He needed to think. He needed to get a grip on himself.

It would happen soon.

-/-

"Goddammit!" Tony flew down to the ground when rubble of a burning building threatened to bury Natasha. Swooping her up in his arms – and ignoring her obscene protests because she clearly disliked feeling like a damsel in distress – he brought her to the top of the National Bank's building where Clint was positioned. The Hawk had his bow aimed at everything and anything that moved, but he hadn't fired an arrow in over fifteen minutes.

Natasha distanced herself from Tony the moment he let go and patted imaginary dust from her outfit, still muttering something about Tony and his knight-in-shining-armor-complex. Her red hair stuck to her sweaty skin and her chest was heaving up and down.

"What a bitch," She eventually breathed for Tony and Clint to hear.

"Tell me about it," Tony agreed whole-heartedly. The mask of his suit fell back with a sharp metallic click and cold air instantly engulfed his face, allowing him to clear his mind. He'd taken a few good hits from her and he still found it unfair that Asgardians possessed such strength. Honestly, life was unfair.

Letting his gaze fall from Natasha to Clint and back again, he asked, "Does anyone have any clue what the hell Amora is doing in the first place?"

Shrugging, Natasha grabbed her gun, checked the amount of bullets she still had left before deciding to reload it – not that bullets harmed The Enchantress. "I haven't the faintest," She replied, her voice dripping with anger. When she met Tony's eyes, Tony spotted a long cut running down the length her neck. Blood stained her skin and the collar of her suit. Her personal collision with The Enchantress had lasted perhaps five minutes before Thor had knocked Amora away from her, but the brief fight had clearly left Natasha exhausted and bloody. In truth, Natasha was lucky to be alive.

Tony watched as Clint stepped closer to his partner, his fingers momentarily brushing the side of her neck, examining the wound. He touched her so softly, so carefully, and Tony was momentarily reminded of Loki, of how he would sometimes touch the raven haired man or hold him.

"It's not too bad," Clint told Natasha. He threw her a reassuring smile. "It looks worse than it is."

Natasha returned his smile and nodded. "I know," She said. Reaching up, her hand briefly touched Clint's and then their contact was broken just as quickly as it had been established.

Tony hadn't a clue what he had just witnessed, or maybe he did, but it was neither his business nor did he have the time to think much more of it. And at the same time, he forced all thoughts of Loki from his mind. He should really focus on the battle at hand.

"Okay, kids," He said, drawing Natasha and Clint's attention back to him. Two pair of annoyed eyes turned to him and Tony couldn't help but clear his throat, suddenly feeling like an awkward intruder. "So Amora is jumping all over the city, burning and destroying buildings as she pleases. We need a plan."

"The Captain would be proud to hear you say that," Natasha grinned.

A few feet below the building, a rush of blue air flew past them. Tony and his two fellow Avengers whipped around and stepped closer to the edge of the building. They followed the strange occurrence, wondering why the hell Amora appeared to be _fleeing_, before a second later, they spotted a red cloak trailing after her, the whoosh of Mjolnir ever so familiar in their ears.

"Thor seems to have a lock on her," Clint said, hope ringing in his voice.

Amora disappeared all of a sudden and Thor was able to end his flight seconds before he crashed straight into the window of a penthouse. He landed on the ground full of fallen stones and glass, and even though Thor was too far away for Tony to hear what he was saying, Tony could tell it wasn't anything nice. He probably hated Amora more than everyone else considering their history. This wasn't the first time Thor fought her after all.

"Where _is_ the Captain anyway?" Tony wanted to know. He scanned their surroundings, but he couldn't find his favorite star-spangled man.

"He's a few blocks down," Clint said. He was twitching one of his arrows in his hand, doing god knows what with it. Tony had long given up trying to get his hands on the technology. No one touched Barton's bow and arrows. He'd learned that the hard way. "He's getting civilians out of some building."

"Ah, Steve," Tony sighed dramatically, "Such an old soul."

"Standing around here chatting isn't going to help us capture Amora," Natasha said. She sounded irritated, but Tony didn't care. Natasha was irritated with them half of the time anyway – except with Clint, but Clint was the exception to everything in Natasha's book. "So either we come up with something decent to knock her out and lock her in a SHIELD cell or we just try and kill her."

Tony nodded. If only he had been able to finish his latest invention. He had started working on the weapon a few days after Loki had left all those weeks ago – before the _real _mess had started – but he had never been able to get it working properly. One day, he would have the breakthrough he needed, though. Then one shot to Amora's head would have her unconscious for days.

"I vote for kill her," Clint muttered, his grey eyes landing on the cut to Natasha's neck.

"We'll have to find her before we can kill her," Tony said, "Jarvis, scan the area of Amora's heat signature."

"_Yes, sir_."

"We'll know where she is soon enough," Tony grinned.

-/-

Smoke and the smell of fire made it difficult for Loki to breathe.

He could pick a better spot from which to observe the chaos transpiring around him, but the fact remained that the smoke cloaked his appearance. Neither Thor nor Tony nor any of the other Avengers had spotted his presence and Loki wanted to keep it that way for just a little while longer. Why, he did not know.

Perhaps he just liked to revel at the destruction around him without anyone bothering him. His heart was thrumming within his chest at the sight of it, making him long for a time where he would have been the one responsible for it. The fire and sound of stones crashing to the ground was divine and it fed him, made him feel something else than sadness for once.

It made him feel … angry. And he liked it. The muscles in his arms and shoulders tensed and Loki could feel his magic whirl and twist within him. He wanted to join in the chaos around him, marvel at it, let it consume him because that, _that _would be better than thinking about Tony, thinking about Fredric, thinking about Thor.

Lifting a hand, Loki shot a bolt of energy at a nearby building that had been left untouched so far. As the energy hit a random window, it spread through the glass and into the concrete. Cracks appeared and fire slowly started to devour the building. Screams could be heard.

Loki released a sigh and closed his eyes. He could feel himself calming down.

His thoughts diverted to Amora once again. He never did discover what exactly her plan was and last time he had tried to uncover, he had encountered Tony. _Last time _... He had still been carrying Fredric inside of him last time.

He banned those thoughts from his mind.

At the moment, it seemed Amora just wanted to turn the city to ashes and Loki was fine with that.

Loki could feel the presence of another person approaching and as soon as she landed behind him, the small rocks covering this rooftop crunching beneath her feet, Loki spun around to face her. His emerald green gaze pierced hers.

Amora was grinning at him, her pale green eyes revealing only amusement. "It has been a while," She said.

It had been years – _decades _– since he last heard her voice, but it was exactly as he remembered it. She sounded strong and confident and just like he used to sound. She still looked her usual self, too, only a bit battered and bruised. Loki had seen the way Thor had knocked her around before she had chosen to run. Amora was a powerful sorceress, but sometimes not even her most powerful spell could match Thor's brute strength.

"Indeed," He replied. He smiled at her, memories of their past encounters filling his mind. They used to be close allies, wrecking their way through Asgard and other realms, causing chaos and destruction. Loki remembered those times fondly and he wondered what exactly had happened to cause their partnership to end.

"So tell me, my dear," He continued, never taking his eyes off of her. They might be old allies, _friends_, but Loki didn't trust her. "What are you doing here on Earth, destroying cities, killing mortals?"

Amora chuckled. She pushed her long blond hair behind her shoulder before tying it together in a messy bun. It still amazed Loki how _normal_ she could appear at times. She almost looked human. "I'm merely doing what you should be doing," She said. She took a step closer toward, but Loki instantly stepped back. Amora halted, her gaze narrowing as she studied him and Loki wondered what she was seeing. "Tell me, Loki, why have you been with Thor and his merry band of dimwits?"

Loki said nothing, though his thoughts instantly drifted to Tony. What would Amora do to him should she get her hands on him? Surely she would tear his weak, mortals limbs clean off of his torso. The mere idea made him shiver.

"Did they capture you?" Amora asked, sounding genuinely concerned. "Did they brainwash you?" When she took another step forward, Loki didn't bother moving away anymore. There was no point and in any case, it seemed to please Amora for the corners of her thin lips curved upward ever so slightly. "What are you doing, Loki?"

"What are you _saying_?" Loki asked in return. When Amora stood directly before him, she brought a hand to the side of his face, the tips of fingers ever so faintly touching his cheek. It reminded him of touches long lost.

"I mean to finish what you started," She explained.

Loki could feel her breath on his face and he let its familiarity cloak around him, embracing him. They used to be close – _very close _– and a strange sort of longing filled him. She could be the solution to all of his problems, he realized. She could be the start of his downfall, too. Loki didn't know what he preferred.

"I will either rule this planet or burn it," Amora continued, "And you should be by my side, Loki. We both know we could make it work. King and queen. Feared and revered. Who does not bow will break."

"Mortals don't just kneel and bow down," Loki replied sharply.

Amora nodded. Loki could tell she was holding back a laugh. "I know," She said ever so softly. Her fingers trailed down his cheek, to the crook of his neck and Loki knew what she was searching for. He also knew what she found – his steady, calm heartbeat. "Separately we are strong. You did almost succeed in ruling them all, did you not? But together, Loki, we are unstoppable. You know that."

"I do."

Truthfully, the idea was appealing.

Amora's green eyes filled with something akin to satisfaction. When she leaned forward, her lips brushed his ever so lightly. "I miss our time together," She whispered. Her hand travelled down his chest and came to rest on top of his heart.

Loki's hand grasped her wrist, pushing it away.

"You wound me."

"You do not care," Loki said.

Her amusement faltered ever so slightly, but before Loki could react, he felt his brother's presence. Thor had found them which meant Tony and the rest of the Avengers weren't far either.

"I'll consider, Amora," He said, letting go of her wrist and stepping back.

Then in a wisp of green smoke, he disappeared.

-/-

Thor landed on the roof first, Natasha clinging to him – and wasn't it hateful that she didn't seem to mind Thor acting like a shining-knight-in-armor? Tony made a mental note to talk to Natasha about that later on, though he had a feeling she would merely punch him on the shoulder or something. She might be small, but she was feisty and she didn't like to be questioned, certainly not by him.

As Tony landed directly beside Thor, he let go of Clint–

–Clint who instantly pulled an arrow from his quiver and aimed it at The Enchantress who stood by the edge of the rooftop. Amora didn't seem very bothered with their arrival, however. She slowly spun around to face them, her light green eyes taking in all of their appearances, calculated gratification filling her sharp features.

Tony should have known right then and there that something was wrong.

"You're outnumbered, Amora," Natasha said. She cocked her gun, ready to fire if necessary, but Amora merely laughed as she gazed at Natasha. She clearly wasn't intimidated by her in the slightest and Tony couldn't blame her. They were all mortal after all. The only person Amora feared was Thor. "Will you come willingly," Natasha asked, "Or does Thor need to bash his hammer to your face first?"

"I'd like to see him try," Amora hissed with sudden fury. She lifted a hand and shot a beam of blue fire at Thor who had no choice but to jump aside unless he wanted to be burned alive – although Tony doubted Thor could ever meet his demise like that. Still, fire was never pleasant and Amora knew that.

Raising his arm, Tony intended to shoot a ray of pure energy at her face, but it was Clint who reacted first. He released the arrow he had positioned on his bow a moment ago and Tony watched with wide, hopeful eyes as it headed straight for Amora's throat, only it never pierced her skin for a pale, slender hand Tony knew oh so well appeared out of nowhere, long, thin fingers curling around the shaft of the projectile.

The rest of Loki materialized a second later.

Tony couldn't breathe.

"Loki," Amora smiled broadly.

"I have considered," Loki told her. His dark green eyes focused solely on The Enchantress and they held a look Tony hadn't seen in a very long time. He had hoped to never see it again. Gone was the sadness and grief – he knew Loki had buried that somewhere deep within him along with everything else he no longer wish to feel – and pure rage had replaced it.

"Brother, what are you doing?" Thor demanded as he lifted Mjolnir, but he didn't attack. Not yet. Tony doubted Thor wanted to fight his brother.

"_Loki_ …" Tony should say something, _anything_. He knew exactly what was happening, what Loki was doing, that he was running, but he somehow couldn't wrap his head around it. Perhaps he didn't want to comprehend any of it. Blindness hurt less. "Please, don't do this."

He ignored Amora's questioning glance.

Throwing the arrow aside, Loki curled his hand around Amora's. His gaze lingered on Thor for a moment and then it landed on Tony, but Loki's features revealed nothing anymore.

Tony wanted to run forward, wanted to pull Loki away from Amora and demand that he ended this madness, but it was too late. They vanished into thin air.

Loki was gone.

**TBC …**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Thank you so much for reading and reviewing the previous chapter! You guys have a lot of questions, but you'll just have to keep reading to get some answers! I hope you enjoy this seventh chapter!**

**The Lover That Went Wrong**

**- Chapter Seven -  
**

The mask fell to the ground with a sharp, resounding sound, but Tony made no effort to pick it up. On the contrary, he continued to storm through the living room of his mansion, heading for the basement, more components of his suit falling away from his body until he was dressed in nothing but dark blue jeans and a black shirt.

Steve bent down to pick up the metal mask, his gaze revealing only concern and sympathy, a soft sigh escaping from him.

Thor could not blame the Captain for looking at Tony with such pitiful eyes, but he was well aware that should Tony catch that look, he would burst in a fit of violence, destroying everything he crossed paths with. Generally, Tony was a good-hearted man, always smiling, always cracking jokes, but there was no telling what Loki's … departure had done to him, how much it had hurt him and the truth was that Thor had a feeling it would be a while before he would hear Tony laugh again. Life was playing cruel tricks on them after all.

The Captain stepped forward, planning to approach Tony who was in the process of violently kicking off his shoes, but Thor swiftly placed his hand on the Captain's shoulder and squeezed it gently, preventing him from walking any further. He didn't think it was a good idea to exchange words with the Man of Iron right now.

Steve halted, his hesitant, doubtful gaze momentarily locking with Thor's, but his attention quickly returned to Tony, clearly unwilling to just let the matter slide, to ignore what had happened no matter how much he wanted to. "Where are you going?" He asked, his voice laced with worry and Thor feared for Tony's reaction.

The question had been a redundant question, really. Thor did not know Tony as well as the Captain did – or so he thought since he did not spend as much time with him – but even he knew exactly where Tony was heading, what he was going to do, what he _would _do for the next few days. Last time Loki had left, Tony hadn't left his work-place located in the basement for days in a row, constantly working, and it seemed he was heading down that same path again, but Thor could not blame him.

"I'm going to finish my goddamn god-stunner," Tony snapped without looking back at them, his voice icy and full of anger. He threw open a door, stepped through it, and slammed it shut behind him, leaving Thor and Steve behind, clearly wanting to be left alone.

For the longest moment, nothing happened.

Thor stared at the door through which his friend had disappeared and sighed, a faint voice in the back of his head telling him he should go and talk to him, but he doubted Tony was interested in listening at the moment. The Man of Iron was angry, furious even, and most of all, he was heartbroken.

"Now what?" Steve asked, finally breaking the silence. "We're supposed to let him wallow in his basement again?"

Closing his eyes for a moment, Thor inhaled deeply to calm himself, to find a way to keep his own demons at bay, before facing Steve. He managed to smile ever so faintly, though why he didn't know and he knew for a fact that it did not reach his eyes. "Give him time," He said softly.

Something changed within Steve in that moment and Thor wasn't sure whether he liked it or not. Steve's blue gaze softened and his lips became two thin lines, and only then did Thor realize that Steve turned his pity toward him – his pity and his sympathies and his … Something else lay hidden within those eyes, something Thor could not put his finger on.

"I'm sorry, Thor," Steve said, genuine regret in his features. "I forgot that not only did Tony lose ... you know, but you also lost your brother."

Casting down his eyes, because for some reason he couldn't bear to look at Steve in that moment, Thor chuckled humorlessly. Truly, he did not know how to handle the situation himself. He had not been prepared for this – could never _be _prepared for this. "You would think I'd be used to it by now," He said, shrugging. "Loki has betrayed me plenty of times in the past, he has left before, but it never ceases to hurt." Before Steve could reply, Thor looked up into his eyes and inclined his head. "We should rest," He said, ending this conversation. "The battle with Amora has tired us all."

Steve seemed hesitant at first, words so obviously lying on the tip of his tongue, but he could not actually say them and Thor felt relieved for that. "Yeah," The Captain eventually said. "Rest seems like a good idea."

-/-

"Oh, I've heard," The man smiled, his dark brown eyes continuously switching between Amora and Loki. He seemed very relaxed to be facing two of the most powerful and dangerous sorcerers in the universe, a fact which Loki did not like at all. The man should be afraid, terrified even, but instead he was just sitting there, ankles crossed, knees apart, hands casually resting on the arms of the chair as if he hadn't a care in the world, as if his life wasn't in danger – but it was, because the more he spoke, the more Loki wanted to rip out his heart and crush it with his bare hands. "Word gets around quickly of how you have been wrecking your way through the mortal world," He added as his gaze lingered on Amora.

"The Earth will bend to my whim," Amora replied sharply, causing Loki to stare at her for a moment, to take in the growing frustration that claimed her. She was as irritated as he felt, which was entirely understandable, and Loki was rather impressed that she managed to stay as calm as she did, making him wonder if she had matured in a way. "They will fall to their knees and–"

"–and you need an army," Malakai – _Mal _– grinned. He steeped his fingers together as a new kind of glint brightened up his dark eyes – eyes that Loki wanted to rip from their sockets and perhaps he would if that meant he would finally understand who exactly he was dealing with. "You are in need of my mercenaries, but what could you possibly have to offer that would make me hand over my men?"

"You have interests in Midgard," Amora said, and while it was hard to detect the hint of desperation, Loki heard it. She was trying to find a common ground to negotiate on, but she was failing and that angered her. Loki could tell by the way her shoulders tensed and the lines of her face became sharper. Walking toward the window which let in the strange sunlight that cast this entire alien world in shades of red, Amora smiled with her lips tightly together. She glanced over her shoulder at Mal, and for a moment Loki thought she would try and _flirt _with him. "I'm sure you are bored of this little, insignificant world to which you've been banned to, whatever its name is."

"I quite like it here actually," Mal said, shrugging.

"Then _you _have become boring."

"_Enough_," Loki snapped, uncaring of how two pair of eyes fell on him, surprise filling them as this was the first time he'd spoken since arriving here only an hour ago, the first time he bothered to make his presence known. They were taking in his appearance, trying to figure him out, and Loki knew they would only find his exasperation and anger. It was all he wanted them to find. "We want your mercenaries and in exchange we will let you live. How is that for a deal?"

Mal's eyes widened for a moment, eyebrows shooting up, but not with fear. "You don't understand the point of negotiating, do you?"

"I don't negotiate with scum like you," Loki hissed.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence and Loki liked to believe Mal was beginning to understand the gravity of his situation, only Mal suddenly burst with laughter, his head thrown back, his eyes squeezed shut. "You won't kill me," He said confidently once he stopped laughing and _oh_, Loki knew he was moments away from actually crushing him. "You need my men and they sure as hell won't follow you into battle after you've killed me."

"Then name your terms," Amora said with a tight voice, drawing Mal's gaze away from Loki and back to her. She turned her back to the window, the red sunlight folding around her, making her look taller and more beautiful, but not more intimidating, and Mal looked anything but frightened, his dark eyes showing only amusement. "What do you want? Power? Money?" Amora asked. "We could give you a lovely piece of land on Earth for you to rule, a beautiful island that–"

"I'm not going to send my men to their deaths for an _island_," Mal said. "I have an entire world here to play with."

Loki truly had enough of this. Mal was wasting time he didn't want to waste and he was pissing him off, showing no respect, or fear, which frankly, Loki felt he deserved. Slowly, without any brusque movements as not to draw any attention to himself, he moved to stand behind Mal, his fingers itching to hurt him, to break him, to destroy him, and that was exactly what he would do.

For one long second, Amora's confused gaze fell on him, wondering what the hell he was doing, but Loki paid her no attention. When he stood directly behind Mal, he placed both his hands on either sides of his face, feeling him tense beneath his touch, hearing his breath falter within his chest, and then he snapped his neck, the worthless crook not even having the time to scream or beg. He fell to the ground, dead, his brown eyes empty and his head twisted in an awkward angle.

Amora sighed, gaze fixed on the limp body of Mal. "Was that necessary?" She asked, obviously displeased.

"Will you miss him?" Loki asked sharply.

Eyebrows rising, Amora's green eyes filled with something akin to concern, but it didn't matter. Loki didn't care. "Of course not," She answered with a silky voice as she came to stand before him, one hand resting to the side of Loki's face, thumb stroking his cheek in what could be a loving manner if it weren't for the fact that it was _Amora _and Loki didn't think her capable of gentleness.

"Then who cares that I killed him?" He asked sharply.

Silence.

Amora's gaze pierced his. "What happened to you, Loki?" She asked softly. "You disappear for months and it turns out you've been with your brother and his mortal friends, but look at you now. You look more wrecked by their hand than you were by Thanos' hand."

Growling angrily, Loki shoved her hand away from his face.

"Are you jealous?" He asked, hoping he sounded as furious as he felt, though there was no denying that his heart was racing, that his hands trembled ever so slightly, because thinking of Thor inevitably led to thoughts of Tony, which weren't all that unpleasant, but they did remind him of everything he had lost, everything he _wanted _to lose. "Would you have preferred to see me ruined by your hand?"

"Always," Amora instantly said. Fingers grabbed his leather coat, pulling him closer while her other hand reached up to run through his raven hair, grasping at it ever so slightly. "It's always been you and me, my dear, for hundreds of years. We drift apart now and again, but somehow we always find ourselves in these kinds of situations again, don't we?"

"Do I hear sentiment? Nostalgia?" Loki asked. He could feel her warm breath on his face, smell her perfume, feel the soft curves of her body pressed against his, and he didn't push her away, because she was familiar, a constant in his life, someone that had always accepted him for who he was, who didn't _care _who he was.

"Perhaps," Amora smiled before closing the distance between them, her full, red lips against his, kissing him, and Loki let her. His eyes closed as he focused on nothing but the softness of her lips or the warmth of her skin as he placed his hands to the sides of her neck.

He needed her to help him forget.

-/-

Tony would never admit that in that moment, he shrieked like a little girl, so he was very grateful that there were no witnesses who could have heard him and he made a mental note to erase all video footage as well. Running toward the work bench by the wall, he grabbed the fire-extinguisher and hastily put out the small fire that had been caused by his god-stunner misfiring for some peculiar reason. He still hadn't gotten it to work properly and it was grating his nerves because he was Tony Stark and he wasn't supposed to struggle with an invention. Hell, he built his first suit in a dark, dank cave, but he couldn't get a weapon to work properly while he had all his toys at his disposal. Frankly, it was becoming humiliating.

"You're no help at all, Dum-E," He muttered as he smacked the crane-like robot that stood beside him. "Honestly, I don't know why I invented you in the first place." He realized he was talking to his machines again – a habit he couldn't get rid of – but he didn't care. They were the only company he craved at the moment.

Of course footsteps sounded on the stairs at that precise moment, and Tony groaned, not interested in getting pep talk like last time.

Turning toward the glass wall that gave him a good view of the stairs, he didn't find Steve coming down, but Thor which was rather unexpected, but Tony shouldn't feel so surprised really. With a sigh, because he had a faint idea of what was to come, he walked back to his main work bench where the god-stunner laid, the small device smoking slightly. Picking it up, he easily found the wire that had caused the short circuit and began to fix it, hoping that he wouldn't have to replace every single wire inside the gun.

The glass door opened, Thor walking in, his blue eyes landing on every machine and tool he could find, and Tony wondered if he even knew what everything was for. Then again, he often found himself underestimating the blond giant because he was smarter than most gave him credit for.

"Last time Steve came," He said, not bothering to look up at the God of Thunder. "Did he give you notes on how to get him out of this basement?"

Glancing up, he found Thor smiling ever so slightly, which he hadn't expected and it caused him to pause for a moment.

"I've not seen Steve in a few days," Thor said and while he was smiling, there was no amusement in his blue eyes. He picked up a small pistol-grip corded drill, studied it for a moment – Tony suspected he just liked to keep his hands busy – and placed it back down, his gaze finally focusing on Tony again.

"So no pointers, huh?" Tony asked. He sincerely hoped he sounded light and carefree, but he doubted he could fool Thor. After all, had he not locked himself in his basement _again_? Honestly, he was getting predictable and Tony reprimanded himself for it. "Say what you have to say, big man, because I'd Iike to focus on this little shit here that refuses to cooperate with me," He said, nudging the god-stunner.

Thor's gaze never wandered, never faltered. It remained locked on Tony who somehow felt violated because Thor's eyes were too bright, like they could see right into his head and read his thoughts, but they also looked too … empty. Only then did he realize that he was being a selfish dick who never bothered to think before he spoke, never bothered to think about anyone else really. Maybe Thor shouldn't be giving him a pep talk, perhaps it should be the other way around.

With a heavy sigh, Tony dropped down on the barstool behind the work bench, brown eyes focused entirely on Thor, trying to read him, to know what he was thinking and feeling, but the guy had a better handle on himself apparently.

"Do you hate him?" Tony found himself asking and again, speaking before thinking. He wanted to knock himself on the head.

"How can I hate him?" Thor asked. He moved closer toward Tony and took a seat at the other side of the work bench. "He is my brother."

"That's no excuse," Tony said, shaking his head. He watched as Thor picked up the god-stunner, studying it for a moment, and for the first time, he seemed to be actively avoiding locking gazes.

"Do _you_ hate him?" Thor asked in return, still not looking up.

It frightened Tony that he couldn't instantly answer that question. He couldn't immediately say yes or no. It wasn't that clear, not that straightforward. He wished it was, but when was life ever that kind or easy?

"He's a runner," He found himself saying, honestly not having a clue how he sounded. Angry? Sad? Indifferent? No, probably not that. "When things get hard and difficult, he leaves, and I get how screwed up he feels, but I feel the same, yet I'm still here."

"Are you?" Thor asked, blue eyes suddenly rising to meet his and it left Tony momentarily startled and wordless. "We've not seen you in days. Loki might run, but you lock yourself away."

"Screw you, Thor," Tony snapped, snatching the device from his godly hands. He knew he might have made a mistake, he definitely knew he was overreacting, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "I tried. I'm _still_ trying."

"Yes, you are working on a device you hope will stun my brother," Thor said, evenly staring into Tony's guarded eyes and, truly, it amazed Tony how he could say such things without sounding cruel or condescending. "And then what? You will drag him back here, force him to stay?"

Pressing his lips together, Tony placed the small device back on his work bench, grabbing a screwdriver and opening a small hatch that gave him access to a few more wires he needed to replace after it had gotten short circuited.

"Oh," Thor suddenly said, and Tony inwardly groaned. "It's not for Loki at all. It's for Amora."

"She's a threat," Tony said without looking up. "And I'm sure you'd like her sedated as you take her back to your golden kingdom you said you'd show us one time or another."

"And Loki isn't a threat?" Thor asked.

Oh, how Tony hated the God of Thunder at that moment. "Would you fight him?" He asked in return, anger beginning to build within him and he wasn't sure it had anything to do with Thor. Thinking about Loki just had that effect on him. "After everything that has happened, everything he went through, you would fight him?"

"My brother's rage sometimes gets the better of him," Thor stated, and Tony wasn't sure if he liked the way Thor could discuss these things so _easily_. Then again, Thor was probably more used to these kinds of situations. "If I must stop him, I will."

"Don't you get tired of it then, of losing him, getting him back, losing him again?"

"More than anything, I find it frightening," Thor admitted. It made Tony frown. "I never know when I'll lose him for the final time and I try to hope for the best, but this time … Well, it is different, isn't it?"

"I suppose," Tony sighed.

"I hope you get the device working," Thor said as he stood, that sad smile returning to his soft features. Tony didn't understand how Thor did it, how one time he could appear powerful and scary and ready to take down a villain with just one swing of his hammer, yet now he looked small and uncertain and almost … insecure. "You might be building it for Amora, but I have a feeling you might need it for Loki."

Tony didn't want to believe Thor was right.

-/-

Rolling her eyes, Amora rose from the couch, her blond hair falling over her shoulder as she straightened her long, red dress. "Can we not overreact, please?" She asked with a silky, yet razor-sharp voice. She moved to stand beside Loki who had forced the man to kneel before him, fingers gripping his collar, knife pressed against his throat. A few drops of blood were already rolling down. "We're here to make a deal, Loki, so can you not–"

"I don't like him," Loki interjected. His cold green eyes stayed entirely focused on the trembling man within his grip. Honestly, tears filled his eyes and Loki marveled at the sight. It had been a while since he'd had such control over a life, since he had frightened someone like this, and he could feel the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins because of it. For the first time, he felt awake, his mind cleared of that thick, poisonous fog that had been numbing and confusing him.

"You didn't like the previous one either," Amora sighed, not bothering to hide her annoyance. Her hand came to rest on Loki's shoulder as if to ground him back into reality, but Loki didn't bother to look at her, to pay her words any attention. "You snapped his neck while he could have given us what we needed. Now you don't like this one either."

"I can give you what you need," The man – an idiot called Alistair – said. He was a mortal, a weapons' dealer who liked to believe he could play with the big guys, but it turned out he was nothing more than a cockroach, and Loki hated cockroaches. "I can give you weapons, soldiers, magical relics, _anything_, just name it!"

"I don't think you can give me what I want," Loki said.

"I can try," Alistair replied. His frightened eyes shifted between Loki and Amora and when he swallowed heavily, the knife cut deeper into his skin. He whimpered, and Loki chuckled. He'd missed times such as these, though he wished Amora would join in. She used to be more fun.

"Could you get me the infinity gems?" He asked with a sly smile.

Alistair's breath faltered within his chest. "The what?"

"The infinity gauntlet then?"

Amora sighed heavily.

"I don't …"

"The Orb of Agamotto?"

A whimper. That was all Alistair could produce. A faint, pathetic _whimper_.

"I didn't think so," Loki said and without warning, he slipped the knife across Alistair's throat, blood instantly gushing from the wound, spilling all over Loki's hands and arms, staining his leather coat and green shirt. It was a mess, but Loki didn't care. He merely watched as the life literally _drained _from the mortal. He had always found it fascinating how mortals bled out so easily, so quickly, and he felt mesmerized by the idea that their deaths followed so swiftly, and Alistair wasn't an exception.

His already dull eyes widened in shock and pain and then he was dead.

Loki released his collar, the mortal falling back with a soft thump, blood pooling beneath him. He wiped the bloodied knife against his sleeve, cleaning it of the blood, uncaring that the mortal's blood covered him.

"That was unfair," Amora said. "One, hardly any mortal knows those items, and two, almost no-one can get their hands on them. You know well enough that they are locked away in your father's vault."

"But it was fun to see the look of terror in his eyes, wouldn't you agree?" Loki asked as he turned his head to find Amora staring at the dead mortal lying at their feet, her entire attitude uncaring of what had just happened, and when she finally met his gaze, she smiled, true enjoyment filling her light green eyes. She lifted a hand as to run it through his raven hair, but Loki stopped her, fingers curling around her wrist, catching it midair. "What are you doing?"

"You've changed," She smiled. "I quite like this new Loki, so whatever the Avengers did to you, I'm grateful."

He shoved her away until her back hit the wall, one hand folding around her throat, squeezing. Amora groaned and for the briefest moment, fear flashed before her eyes, but she was _Amora_ and she didn't stay afraid for very long. The edges of her lips curled upward and Loki wanted to wipe that pleased, smug grin from her face, but he didn't.

Instead he found himself kissing her, hands moving down her body, gripping her dress and lifting it.

"You are getting his disgusting blood all over me," Amora muttered, somehow sounding slightly out of breath. Loki enjoyed the idea that he had such an effect on her.

Pressing his lips against the side of her neck, easily finding her racing pulse, he sucked a bruise into her skin. Amora produced the smallest moan.

"You like that," He said as her hands hastily moved to remove the belt from his leather trousers and he didn't stop her. No, he _wanted _this. Teeth sinking into her lower lip, Amora let out another small whine as she folded her legs around his waist, Loki's hands holding her up, pressing her against the wall.

"I was wondering … when it would come to this," She breathed.

"Oh, shut up," Loki snapped

Amora chuckled in response.

Loki's eyes fluttered shut when she sucked at that sensitive spot just below his ear, when her grip on his shoulders tightened as he entered her. She let out a shaky breath and Loki turned to look at her, green eyes staring into green, and he found himself back into the past.

He'd been there before and he couldn't believe he was doing this again, yet he didn't stop himself, because he wanted her, _needed _her.

He still wanted to forget, still wanted to feel nothing but his rage and his suffering, yet _he_ lay on his mind. Loki was surrounded by Amora – by her touch, her smell, her warmth, but he only thought of Tony, and he hated himself for it.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: Hi, there! I hope you guys are still enjoying the story. I bring the eighth chapter and I hope it will be enjoyed, too. A lot of people are still concerned about the whole 'a child dies, but no actual child dies' so if you're one of those, leave a short message (review or PM) and I'll reply to tell you what's up with that. Obviously, I'd be giving you a spoiler, so that is why I'm not just writing it down here. I don't want to give away the whole deal, you know? In any case, enjoy the new chapter. Cass.**

**The Lover That Went Wrong**

**- Chapter Eight -  
**

Heat surrounded him as the buildings burned, screams filling the air. There used to a time where he marveled at the sight and sound, where he would have laughed and reveled at the panic and chaos surrounding him, but now he felt … nothing. He was merely an observer, watching as people ran for their lives, watching as they cried for their friends and family, as they desperately tried to find refuge somewhere, anywhere, but the streets were burning and they were trapped.

In the distance, Loki could hear an explosion and for the briefest moment he wondered what Amora was doing, though he assumed she was probably just having a bit of fun. He cared very little about what was happening, really, about the people below him, about Amora. The city was crumbling for reasons that were unbeknownst to him, because truly, there was no point. They weren't trying to send a message or show their strength. He and Amora had just come here, starting fires and waiting for people to start screaming. It hadn't taken long at all for panic to spread, and now it was only a matter of time before their heroes would come and save them.

Loki couldn't wait to watch them burn, too. He couldn't wait to see Thor struggle to get control of the situation, to see the Captain be noble and courageous as he would save the people trapped down the street. He wondered if Black Widow and Hawkeye would join in as well, and wondered what Tony would do, but Loki quickly discarded that thought. Tony would burn like the rest of them and he had no intention of stopping it.

Screams sounded directly beneath him and Loki glanced down over the edge of the building, finding a dozen humans trying to escape the inferno that he had created. They looked like ants trapped in their anthill, frantically running around and looking for an exit. He watched – rather disappointed – as they made it safely to an underground subway station before his gaze suddenly turned to sky, movement catching his attention.

His brother was easily recognizable, his red cape giving him away as he flew through the air, and Loki considered shooting a bolt of energy at him, but in the end it would only reveal his location. He wasn't naïve. He knew he could never kill his brother, not with a bolt of energy alone and, truly, he was in no mood for hand-to-hand combat – not that he thought himself strong enough to defeat Thor – so he watched as his brother landed somewhere near the east of the city, a few blocks away from where he stood on top of the National Bank's building.

Sirens came near, fires were extinguished, and while Loki just stood there, observing, Amora was still wrecking her way through the city, making buildings collapse and generally being a bitch. She was good at that. He knew he should join her, knew he should enjoy … _this_, but he couldn't. The fires, the screams, the chaos, none of it even made his heart race.

With a sigh, he turned away from the edge of the building, preparing to leave since there wasn't really a point of him being there, only to catch sight of a red and golden metal suit passing over his head. His heart skipped a bit, his mouth suddenly turning so incredibly dry, and Loki hated it. He prayed that the smoke had shielded him from Stark's sight, but luck wasn't on his side – it never was lately – and a moment later, Loki watched as Iron Man altered his course and headed back for the roof of the National Bank.

He should leave, he should cast a spell that would transport him miles and miles away from there, but Loki found himself frozen, locked down, and all because it was Tony landing a few feet away from him, his mask falling back. Dark circles around his brown eyes revealed how exhausted the mortal felt, which meant he was weaker than usual, a fact Loki should use as his advantage, yet all he could do was stare at him while it became harder for him to breathe. It was ridiculous and hateful, but still he couldn't bring himself to move, to curse, to fight, to do _something_, yet the same apparently went for Tony who simply stared back at him, his dark eyes piercing his emerald green eyes.

"If you have something to say, just say it," Loki said after a long and hard silence. He felt relieved to hear his voice cold and distant, because Tony might have a peculiar effect on him, one he just couldn't wrap his head around, but that didn't change the fact that he still hated him, that he _blamed _him, because was it not all his fault? He would still feel strong and untouchable weren't it for that man, his weakness.

Tony blinked, confusion and concern filling his eyes, and Loki hated how effortlessly he could read that man, how well he'd come to know him, or perhaps Tony had just become _easy_. The thought made Loki smile sharply, the idea of Tony ruined pleasing him, though that wasn't entirely true. A man was never completely ruined if he still had hope to cling to, and Tony clearly hung onto that sentiment like he hung onto dear life itself.

"Come home," He said, brown eyes never leaving him, never losing their strength that somehow seemed to return to him.

Loki laughed, the sound foreign to his own ears. "Home?" He heard himself ask. "You mean your mansion? Your tower? Oh, Stark, let me tell you that those places have never been my home, nor will they ever be."

"You used to be a better liar," Tony simply replied. He stepped forward as Loki growled, his fingers itching to crush the mortal's fragile skull, because he was insufferable and stubborn and dangerous – his weakness. "So I'll ask again," He continued and Loki couldn't believe he had the nerve to step out of his suit, to consider him harmless. "Come home with me."

Slowly, Loki shook his head, a small voice in the back of his head screaming at him to reach out, to take hold of Tony's hand, to once again allow himself to feel something other than hatred and anger and suffering, but he refused. For the first time in years, he had allowed himself to feel happiness and hope again, only to have it crushed, so what was the point exactly? What was the point of loving someone when there lay nothing but pain down the line?

"I won't give up on you," Tony said and Loki believed him. He could see the determination in his dark brown eyes and he knew he needed to destroy that. He needed to destroy _him_. "And you know how infuriatingly stubborn I am," Tony continued softly as he reached out for him, the tips of his fingers brushing the side of his face and Loki couldn't bring himself to pull away. It would be the easy solution, but not a permanent one. "You love me, I know you do, so I won't give up."

"You're very sure of yourself," Loki said. He blinked, hoping to hide everything that threatened to break free, because by the gods, he loved that man, but he refused to give in, refused to allow himself to grow weak once more. It was better to feel nothing at all.

"Always," Tony said, a faint smile curving the edges of his lips upward, his features softening with hope and relief. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them, his lips instantly finding his, kissing him like he'd kissed him a hundred times before, only softer this time, more desperate.

Loki's eyes fluttered shut, reveling at all that was Tony, allowing himself this short moment of peace and silence. He could feel Tony relax, could feel the tension slip away from him, and Loki knew the moment was near. One way or another, he would destroy everything.

"Will you come home with me?" Tony asked again, his voice hardly above a whisper. His hands came to rest to the sides of his neck and Loki stared into his brown eyes, wanting to remember them properly.

One flick of his wrist later, just one quick movement, and he watched as those dark, kind eyes widened suddenly, shock and dread filling them. Tony's lips parted slightly, but no sound came from him,. He couldn't catch his breath.

Loki pulled himself away from Tony and glanced down at the dagger he'd planted deep inside of his chest, just below the vibrant blue arc reactor. He felt sick and nauseous when he realized Tony's still warm blood stained his hands, but he could push past it.

Tony stumbled back, fingers folding around the hilt of the dagger, but he didn't pull it out. He was smarter than that. He didn't want to risk bleeding to death after all, though his fate was already sealed.

"Loki?" He gasped, nothing but disbelief in his gaze as he stared at the god of mischief.

"Have I broken you now?" Loki asked and he felt horrified to hear his own voice so … _dead_. This was what he wanted and needed, what he'd always been good at.

Tony didn't reply – couldn't. His legs gave out beneath him and he fell to the ground, his eyes squeezed shut, his body going into shock. With every ragged breath he managed to take, Loki could hear the gurgling of his blood that was slowly filling his right lung, but he didn't rush to help him, didn't regret what he'd done.

He was free of the mortal that had somehow managed to tie him down, and now Tony would finally be free of him.

With that thought in mind, Loki cast a spell and disappeared.

-/-

There was a lot of wind. Strangely enough, that was all Tony could focus on – that and the searing pain in his chest, which wasn't surprising considering there was a fucking _knife_ lodged between two ribs, puncturing a lung, making it damn hard for him to breathe. The golden handle sticking from his chest was laced with emerald green stones and of course Loki would have such a flamboyant dagger, a thought that almost made Tony laugh, but then he remembered that this was Loki's weapon and that it was slowly killing him. Perhaps he just shouldn't have been stupid enough to think he could change the god of mischief, that he could help him, not after everything they had gone through. He'd been a fucking idiot to believe that there was still hope, but he wouldn't make that mistake again.

The wind grew stronger and noise overwhelmed Tony who finally turned his unfocused gaze upward. Something was approaching, but it took Tony a moment to realize he was seeing a SHIELD helicopter landing on the other side of the roof. He should feel relieved that he'd been found so quickly since that made his chances of surviving this mess grow exponentially, but instead he groaned and closed his eyes, knowing that he would never hear the end of it.

Footsteps approached, quick and heavy, and Tony didn't need to open his eyes to know that it was the Captain coming his way. He could practically hear the STAR SPRANGLED BANNER play in the distance!

"Stark?" Yep, definitely the Captain. Leave it to him to sound more annoyed than worried while there was currently a gaping hole in his chest – or there would be once they removed the knife.

Begrudgingly, Tony opened his eyes to find Steve hovering over him, his usually bright blue eyes a shade too dark, his irritation so very clearly written all over his face even though half of it was concealed by that ridiculous mask of his.

"Nice of you … to join me," He managed to say and he'd wanted to sound amused and uncaring, but being on the brink of unconsciousness really wasn't helping – that and the fact that he got a few pecks of blood on his lower lip as he spoke. Breathing was definitely becoming harder, too.

"Dammit, Stark, what did you do?" Steve demanded angrily. Fingers touched the skin around the dagger, making Tony hiss in pain, but that didn't stop him. Tony suspected Steve was secretly happy he was in pain, because that might make him realize the gravity of the situation – not that he needed a reminder. Pushing aside the fabric of Tony's black and blood-stained shirt, Steve carefully examined the wound without removing the knife. "Why the hell did you step out of your suit?"

"Oh, sue me," Tony snapped, and he was going to feel eternally grateful that he managed to get his anger across in that moment. Grabbing hold of Steve's wrist, though his grip was feeble, he forced his hand away. "Just get me … to that fucking helicopter."

Sighing with annoyance, exasperation, irritation, and every other adjective that followed in line with his current mood, Steve rose to his feet and stepped back, allowing the other SHIELD agents to pick Tony up – who tried his damn best not to make a sound as the movement almost tore him apart – and placed him on a stretcher. By the time they got to the helicopter – the noise it produced physically hurting Tony's ears – his vision was growing darker and Tony knew he only had a few more seconds before he'd fall unconscious.

"Cap?" He muttered. His eyes were already closed, but he could tell Steve came to sit next to him, if just by the rusting of his clothes or the way he breathed – which reminded Tony of the fact that he spent way too much time with him and the other Avengers. "Where's he?"

"Gone," Steve told him, "Loki left with Amora a few minutes ago. We couldn't capture them."

"Well fuck."

There was so much more he wanted to say. He wanted to call Amora a bitch and he wanted to curse Loki to hell. He wanted to ask if the city was safe and how many casualties had fallen. He wanted to know where the rest of their team was, but he couldn't anymore.

Darkness pulled him under and for the briefest moment, he wondered if he'd ever wake.

-/-

Even though his skin was clean and awfully pale, it still felt dirty and stained. Loki couldn't stop staring at his hand, couldn't forget the weight of the dagger, nor the way it felt to pierce Tony's chest. Tony's shocked, horrified, brown eyes were still staring at him whenever he closed his eyes and Loki cursed himself for it. He'd wanted to kill him, wanted to erase him from his life, but apparently that wasn't as easy as he'd thought. Being around Amora definitely helped since it reminded him of a life he'd lived before, a live he _wanted _to live, but Tony had influenced him, changed him, made him weaker.

"Come back to bed."

Loki turned to look over his shoulder, finding Amora lying on her stomach, arms underneath her pillow, a thin, white sheet covering absolutely nothing of her curvy and beautiful body. Her long blond hair lay loosely around her shoulders and Loki found himself wanting to be with her. She helped him be who he was supposed to be – strong, uncaring, mischievous, and angry.

Spinning around, he let the silk robe fall away from his body and slipped back into bed.

Amora moved to where she was leaning on her elbows, the edges of her full red lips curving upward into a smile. "Do you think you killed him?" She asked, her vibrant green eyes revealing nothing but excitement and delight.

"Let's hope I did," Loki replied as he reached out, fingers trailing through Amora's long blond hair, "Our lives would be that much easier."

"Our lives will be easier when they are all dead," Amora said with a harsh and cruel tone. Even her gaze darkened and Loki chuckled at the sight, knowing how easily she could get miffed. She was an impatient woman and that was often her undoing, but this time would be different. They were together again, scheming and plotting, though Loki knew they hardly wanted the same thing. She wanted power and dominion over this world and he just wanted to … forget. He had a feeling her goal was easier achieved than his.

"Can we not think of my brother and his puppets?" He asked while he let his fingers ghost over her bare shoulder. She shuddered beneath his touch, her smile turning into a pleased smirk. She moved to sit on her knees, only to throw a leg over his hips, effectively straddling him, and Loki smiled at her with his lips tightly pressed together.

"Does the idea of the great Iron Man dead excite you as much as it excites me?" She asked, ignoring Loki's request. "Do tell me again of how utterly _shocked _he was when you stabbed him." Her hands came to rest to the side of his face, the tips of her fingers playing with his raven hair.

Loki cocked his head to the side, eyes never leaving Amora. "What does it matter how shocked he was?" He asked after a short silence, a silence that only seemed to entertain Amora which in turn aggravated Loki. "I stabbed him and I left him to die, that is all that matters."

"You should have slit his throat," Amora said angrily. She leaned closer until her lips brushed against Loki's, her grip on his hair tightening. "You should have made sure he was dead, you had the chance, or perhaps I should start to think you didn't want him dead after all."

Loki said nothing as he stared at her, unafraid to meet her gaze, as if challenging her to keep speaking, to keep antagonizing him, because that was exactly what she was doing. Her eyes softened at Loki's behavior and she turned more amused than anything else as she pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

"Did he break your heart?" She asked softly.

A sudden tightness moved around his chest and Loki's hands latched around Amora's wrists. "You should stop talking if you value your life," He said, eyes wide with rage. It would take him less than a second to conjure a knife to his hand – one that would look exactly like the one he'd used to stab Tony – and he wouldn't hesitate to stab her and this time, he would aim straight for the heart.

"Will you ever tell me what happened to you?" She asked, seemingly oblivious to Loki's growing hostility.

"Why do you care?" Loki hissed.

"Why do _you_?" Amora shot right back and Loki had no answer, which appalled him more than anything else. Her hands traveled down his chest, the tips of her fingers brushing over his skin ever so lightly. "Forget him, Loki," She whispered, all smirks and charms having fallen away from her, "I can give you what you want, what you need." Her fingers curled around his length, her touch icy, making Loki tense ever so slightly. "Just tell me what you need."

Growling, he rolled them over, switching their positions, pushing Amora into the mattress below, his fingers pressing bruises into her wrists as he pinned them above her head.

"What I _need_–" He began, his voice sharp and cold and frustrated as he nudged a knee between her legs while Amora was grinning up at him. "–is for you to shut up."

Leaning down, he kissed her. She shivered beneath his touch and smiled at the feeling of his tongue sweeping over the seam of her lips. The moan she produced was low and intimate, and she didn't speak another word that evening. Loki made sure of that.

-/-

"What are you doing?"

Tony swirled around, eyes having gone wide, knowing there was a good chance he looked like a five-year-old who had been caught with his hand in the cookie-jar, but then the pain crashed into his body since he had moved too quickly and for a moment Tony feared he had ruptured his stitches. Wincing, he finished pulling his shirt over his head before checking, but thank God he wasn't bleeding and the stitches were just fine.

"I'm not gonna spend weeks in a hospital bed," He said, sitting down on the edge of the bed to pull on his shoes – which hurt, too, but he pushed past the pain. "I'm definitely not gonna stay in a SHIELD hospital, because have you seen the nurses? Eight percent is male, so no thank you."

Thor raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms before his chest. Tony could tell he was ready to speak his mind, to tell him to get back into bed or something – or perhaps not since this was _Thor _and Thor was unpredictable. "What does it matter what the sex of the nurses is?"

Yep, definitely unpredictable. Rolling his eyes, making sure Thor saw that, Tony focused on his shoes again, hating that it took him ages to pull them on and tie his laces. "You're not gonna rat on me, are you?" He asked without looking up at the god of thunder. "Because then I have no chance of getting out of here and I won't forgive you."

"I shall only advice you to reconsider your plan then," Thor replied in his usual deep, regal voice, "You were stabbed only nine days ago, were unconscious for three of them. Leaving the care of the doctors and nurses could be considered a bad idea."

"Noted," Tony said happily. He straightened his back and grinned at Thor who definitely didn't look very amused. "If it makes you feel any better, I plan to spend the next three weeks in my basement, not doing anything physically demanding."

"It does not make me feel better at all," Thor said.

"I appreciate your concern, buddy, I really do," Tony started, looking at Thor, suddenly wondering why he was there, but somehow thinking he didn't want to find out, "But I'll be fine. I just need to get the god-stunner working, do a few tests, and then our problems will be fixed. You guys can capture Amora and Loki, and you can ship their asses off to Asgard's most secure prison-cell."

Thor stared at him and honestly, Tony didn't know what he'd said to elicit such a reaction, but he figured it had something to do with Loki. It _always _had something to do with him and that angered him more than he thought possible. His life had been easy until Loki had showed up. Cities hadn't constantly been under attack and his life hadn't been in constant danger, although that last thought wasn't true. He had always been at the center of threats, but he had never thought things would turn so personal between him and Loki. He'd never thought they would want each other dead.

"What?" He snapped when the silence continued and Thor kept still staring at him as if he could read every thought that crossed his mind, or maybe he was just being that obvious. In any case, he would like Thor to stop staring at him and to stop making him feel so uncomfortable in his own damn skin.

"Is that what you want?" Thor asked, his bright blue eyes piercing Tony's dark brown ones and truly, Tony preferred to be kidnapped and put in a cave again than have this conversation with Thor – who he'd once thought would end up as his brother-in-law, but look how things worked out! "Do you want Loki arrested and returned to Asgard?"

"Honestly, I don't care what happens to him," Tony snapped angrily, his chest heaving suddenly even though breathing still fucking hurt and he knew he should calm down, but Thor wasn't exactly making things easy, certainly not with the way he was looking almost incredulously at him. "He can fall off a building and meet his end on the pavement for all I care, though I'd prefer if it ended painful and bloody, since that's how he wanted me to meet my end apparently."

"That's a colorful picture," Thor said, and it almost had Tony bursting with laughter weren't it for the fact that he felt pissed off and the edges of his vision were darkening and _great_, now he had to sit down for a moment. Thor stepped forward, as if coming to his aid, but one nasty glare in his direction had him coming to a halt. "You should stay in bed for a few more days, my friend."

Tony inhaled deeply, calming himself enough for the dark spots to disappear. "I mean it, Thor," He said eventually, watching Thor frown at his words, though he remained quiet and Tony didn't understand how Thor could not get him, how he could not understand what he was saying. "I'm done with him," He clarified, "I'm done with your brother."

Thor said nothing to that.

Rising to his feet, Tony grabbed his jacket and carefully shrugged it on, wincing at the movement and hating his weak and frail mortal form as Loki would most likely put it, before focusing on his friend again who looked somewhere between a kicked puppy and an overly protective big brother, but Tony couldn't bring himself to care.

"He needs you."

Tony snorted and shook his head. "He only needs one thing," He found himself saying, shocked to hear his own voice detached and cold, which hadn't been his intention, but that was the effect Loki had on him at the moment and Tony didn't know whether that fact made him relieved or sad, "Power, that's all he ever needed, and apparently Amora will help him get that, so good luck to him."

Thor looked wounded.

"Oh, don't give me that look."

"You're angry–"

"Damn right I'm angry!" Tony instantly regretted shouting out those words because not only did his chest feel like it was on fire, like Loki had just stabbed him a second time, but he had given into the anger he'd been trying to bottle up and the look on Thor's face wasn't helping either. "I tried, what more do you want of me?" He asked dejectedly.

Again, Thor stayed silent, and Tony cursed him for it.

"I'm not as strong as you are," Tony said, deflating some and _fuck_, Thor was a sneaky bastard. He knew all the ways to get him to spill. "I can't lose Loki again and again. I won't put myself through that torture. I tried, I tried damn hard and I got stabbed in the chest for it. So good luck with him, Thor, and I really hope you capture him alive and I hope that blonde bitch dies, but I won't help. You're on your own now."

"I understand," Thor said, inclining his head.

"Of course you do," Tony muttered, "Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to sneak out of here before the Captain or worse, Fury enters, because then I'll be cuffed to the bed."

Tony watched as Thor stepped aside to let him pass, but his silence unnerved him. He hated it when Thor spoke, every word coming from his mouth confronting him with a truth he rather ignored, and he definitely hated his silence since that just made him feel horrible about himself.

Sighing, he walked forward, only to come to a halt right beside him, glancing up at him with nothing but true regret in his brown eyes. "I'm sorry," He said, "Good luck."

"Thank you," Was all Thor managed to say and perhaps he wanted to say more, Tony truly didn't know, but he didn't want to find out either. He exited the SHIELD-hospital-room, feeling very much like a coward, but then again, that wasn't anything new. He could live with that, just as long as there was a drink waiting for him at home.

**TBC …**

**AN: I know, everything seems to be shot to hell, but do know that I'm not a sadist (okay, I kinda am), but I wouldn't end a story with everyone as a heap of misery. So resolutions are coming, just bear with me, please! Thanks for reading!**


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: I'm so happy you guys are still digging it. So here is the next chapter. Enjoy!**

**The Lover That Went Wrong**

**- Chapter Nine -  
**

"So no-one is the slightest bit concerned?"

Thor turned his gaze to Clint Barton sitting on the other side of the table, his cynical, apprehensive grey eyes moving from one person to another, waiting for a response, but Thor wouldn't be the one to give it to him. No, he pressed his lips together until they were but two thin lines and cast down his eyes to the smooth surface of the table on which his hands were resting. Never before had he felt this troubled, disliking the situation he found himself in, but he figured he should have gotten used to it by now.

"It's only been three weeks," Natasha replied. She might sound casual and relaxed, but she didn't look like it. Her gaze stood hard, her shoulders tense, and her hands were clasped together to the point where her knuckles had turned white. It was no secret that she held the biggest grudge of all against Loki considering what he'd done to Barton all that time ago, yet in many ways, she reminded Thor of his younger brother – quiet, smart, strong-willed and definitely lethal. They could have been good friends if the gods had willed it differently.

"He can do a lot of damage in three weeks," Clint countered sharply. Thor turned his gaze to the archer again, suddenly remembering that he probably knew Loki better than all the other Avengers – save for Thor of course who still liked to believe that he understood his brother on a level no-one else could. "They could be plotting the world's end."

They were most _definitely_ plotting the world's end, one way or another, and Thor sighed heavily at the thought. Last time Loki had almost completely destroyed the great city of New York with his army of Chitauri, yet now Thor had a feeling that his brother would go about ruling this planet differently, smarter. There was no foreseeing what Loki and Amora had planned for them, certainly not now that they had vanished off the face of the Earth, which troubled Thor even more.

"Or," A new voice interjected, causing all eyes to turn to the doorway, "They could be going at it like rabbits and you're all getting worked up over nothing."

"Stark," Fury said as a manner of greeting. His one good eye narrowed as he took in Tony's appearance – Tony who stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, arms crossed before his chest and lips pursed ever so slightly. "Good of you to join us."

"Well, you wanted an update," Tony said as he straightened his back and shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers. He nonchalantly strolled into the SHIELD-conference room like he hadn't a care in the world, and he was a good actor, but he couldn't fool them. He looked better than last time Thor saw him – which had been right before he'd snuck out of the SHIELD-hospital room – but the dark circles around his eyes betrayed how tired he was, how little sleep he was getting lately, though that hardly surprised Thor. It was no secret that Anthony Stark was struggling. "And you wanted to be a dick about it and force me to leave my basement, so here I am."

"It's good to see you, Stark," Steve said.

Tony threw the Captain a sarcastic smile before returning his attention to the Director. After pulling a chair from underneath the table, letting the legs scrape against the floor, he took a seat next to Thor who couldn't help but frown a little, because Tony had definitely not showered this morning, or shaved, and by the smell of it, he drank an entire bottle of whiskey last night, or possibly before breakfast. There was no telling with the Man of Iron.

"You wanted an update," Tony began after a long, rather awkward silence, "Do you just want me to talk or are you actually going to ask questions?"

"Is the device working?" Fury asked, not at all bothered by Tony's indifferent behavior or by his hostile attitude. Then again, it wasn't a secret that Tony Stark and Nick Fury weren't the best of friends and Thor suspected that their professional relationship had taken quite a hit when Tony started sleeping with the enemy – literally.

"It's kinda working," Tony answered, grinning, but the cheerful emotion didn't reach his eyes, his gaze remaining dull and tired and empty, "I have to toy with the calibrations a little and run some final tests, but then it's all yours for the taking since I don't think you'll allow me to patent it."

"And when do you think you'll be able to do these final tests?"

Tony shrugged. "When the time is right."

"And when will the time be _right_?" If possible, Fury was growing red in the face, his one eye growing hard, his hands turning to fists.

"What's the problem?" Tony asked, his grin only growing, but again, Thor wasn't fooled by it and he wondered if the others were, but one look at their faces gave him the answer. Thor would never have believed that Steve, Natasha and Clint would ever look at Tony Stark with worry lining their features. They should make sure Tony wouldn't notice. He'd probably throw a fit. "Like Natasha said, it's been three weeks since the bitch and the tramp vanished off the face of the earth."

Thor cast his eyes down at the words. While he knew Tony was angry, that he could never possibly, _actually_ hate his brother, it was still difficult to hear him speak so disrespectfully of him. What they had gone through, the loss they'd suffered, it should have brought them closer together, but life was rarely so kind.

"Just get it done, Stark," Fury growled.

"I would have been able to _get it done _weeks ago if I'd had Dr. Banner's help," Tony easily replied, untouched by Fury's growing anger. He leaned back in his seat, his dark gaze calmly meeting Fury's. "But you had to ship him off to God knows where to study gamma-radiation."

"You got it working, that's what is important here," Steve said. Thor had a feeling the Captain was somehow trying to dismantle the situation, but this was Tony Stark they were talking about and he liked to antagonize people, get them angry, because that would get them distracted and _that _would cause their attention to shift away from him.

"Yeah, and what have you guys been doing while I've been busting my ass off?" Tony asked, eyebrows rising. "Besides sitting around all day, doing nothing I mean." _Yes, it was a foolproof plan_, Thor thought as he watched Steve turn his gaze to Fury while Clint and Natasha exchanged short, annoyed glances. "Nothing, huh?" Tony grinned, his gaze swiftly moving around the conference room. "Awkward."

"I think this meeting is adjourned," Fury sighed exasperatedly.

They all quickly rose to their feet, but Thor turned to his side, wanting to have a more private conversation with Tony – to ask him how he was reallydoing and if he needed help with the god stunner in some way, perhaps to test it – but the Man of Iron was already darting from the conference room, _fleeing_, and Thor didn't bother to stop him or go after him. He doubted that would be a good idea. Tony would come around eventually, would be able to see past his anger and heartache. All that he needed was time, or so Thor hoped.

-/-

Large, thick pillars lined each side of the massive, golden room which was entirely empty except for one glass pedestal positioned at the far end of the room. Sunlight streamed through the high, colorful windows, casting their entire environment in vibrant colors of red and blue. Their footsteps echoed off the golden walls, the sound too loud for Loki's liking, but they were alone so there was no-one to hear them, no-one to disturb or stop them.

Loki glanced up to find that the ceiling high above them had been decorated with a thousand yellow stars. This room had once been the pride and glory of an Elven lord whose name had already long been forgotten in history. Odin himself had claimed this palace over three thousand years ago after the lord's death, but it had remained abandoned in the realm of Vanaheim, yet its beauty had never diminished.

"We're so close," Amora smiled, calling Loki's attention to her. She folded an arm around his waist, pulling him close, and when Loki turned his head to look at her, she claimed his lips with hers, one hand reaching up to run through his long, raven hair.

He kissed her back, but only briefly. He had other things on his mind. After pulling himself free from her embrace, Loki returned his gaze to the glass pedestal about twenty yards ahead of them, relief and satisfaction filling him, but he couldn't bring himself to smile, not yet. Entering this palace, breaking past the magical wards Odin himself had created, it had all been too … _easy_. Loki felt restless and precarious, because he knew the Allfather and he knew he would have a few tricks up his sleeve.

"Do you know what this means?" Amora asked, sounding excited and ecstatic, and Loki couldn't blame her. "Victory is close, my dear, and soon we will have the mortals bow to our every whim."

"Don't cheer just yet," He told her. Amora rolled her eyes at him, as if he was spoiling her fun – he probably was – but Loki simply refused to make the same mistakes he'd made before. He didn't allow himself to feel triumphant, not until the stone lay in his hand and he wielded its power. "I do not like this, Amora," He admitted with a burdened sigh, his gaze taking in all that surrounded them, which was nothing but pillars, but he still felt cautious, perhaps even paranoid.

"Odin never believed this place could be found. It belongs to myths," Amora said as they continued to walk toward the pedestal, "But he underestimates his enemies."

"And you underestimate him," He snapped.

She waved his comment away, huffing a little. "We will take the Soul Gem and we will harness its power and the mortal world will be ours," She said determinedly.

"Then grab the damn thing already," Loki replied angrily.

He wanted to get away from this place as quickly as possible, not liking the silence, the easiness, but at the same time, he found himself utterly fascinated, and without a word, he slipped away from Amora. His footsteps were inaudible as he made his way deeper into the room.

He wanted to explore this place a little, wanted to discover what tricks lay hidden from them, because he refused to believe that Odin had not protected the gem better.

He might hate Odin with every fiber of his being, but he still knew him, had been raised by him, and that foolish old man would never be foolish enough to leave something as powerful and dangerous as the Soul Gem defenseless. It was only a matter of time before they discovered the final line of defense.

-/-

Amora could feel the energy thrumming through her body and as she got closer to the gem – the gloriously unprotected, emerald green gem – her smile broadened, her fingers itching to curl around the cold stone, to feel its weight in her hand, to feel its power. She was only faintly aware that her footsteps were the only ones echoing off the walls, that Loki no longer walked beside her, but she didn't care, Loki being able to take care of himself. She only had eyes for the pedestal in front of her.

Just a few more yards and she would finally be able to grab the stone and then it would only be a matter of time before she would be able to wield its power, together with Loki, and they could return to Earth. The mortals would bow before them one way or another and those that would oppose them were destined to die. The mere thought had her heart skip a beat, had a shiver run down her back. She briefly wondered if Loki was truly willing to go up against the Avengers, because while Tony Stark was most likely dead, their biggest opponent remained very much alive – _Thor_. He would not just stand by as they conquered the earth.

But those were concerns for later. With the Soul Gem, that problem might even be solved. It would give them the power to attack or steal one's soul. They could simply trap Thor's and leave him as a comatose, drooling mess. _Oh_,she was already looking forward to it!

Finally standing before the pedestal, she reached out, her pale and slender fingers ready to grab the stone, when she suddenly felt the cold edge of a blade pressed to the back of her neck, making her tense, her hand frozen in midair. Slowly, breathing heavily, uncertain of what was happening, she glanced over her shoulder, half expecting Loki to stand behind her, betraying her, but she was wrong.

Instead, she found herself locking gazes with Loki's brother.

-/-

"The stone is not yours to take," Thor said while he kept a firm grip on the sword he was currently pressing against the back of Amora's neck. One smooth movement and he could behead her, but he had never been one for such cruel deaths. Still, he would not hesitate to kill her, because would that not mean the safety of the Nine Realm, of the universe? Perhaps he _should _kill her then and there, but that would only solve fifty percent of his problems. "Where is my brother?" He asked.

Slowly, Amora turned around to face him, the sharp blade moving around her neck until the tip was pressed against her jugular. She appeared as calm as ever, and Thor knew he had to be careful. She remained a powerful sorceress after all, masterfully skilled in dark magic. His other hand tightened around Mjolnir, ready to either strike her or defend himself.

"I don't know," She said, but she wasn't as a good a liar as Loki, or perhaps she wasn't really trying. Thor added more pressure to that pulsating vein and watched, in half amusement, as she immediately tensed, her light green eyes widening. "If you are to kill me, then do it swiftly," She said darkly.

Thor had a feeling she was preparing an attack, Amora not being one to simply accept defeat, to lay down her head and die. "I want to know where Loki is," He repeated, his cautionate gaze darting around for a moment, knowing that Loki had to be around here somewhere, but he found nothing but dust and pillars. Taking a step closer toward her, he cut the side of her neck ever so slightly – a warning – and watched as she shuddered, her eyes falling shut for a moment.

The sudden warmth of his breath to the shell of his ear was the first thing Thor became aware of, the smooth blade of a dagger pressed to his throat the second. Thor froze, every muscle in his body growing tense at the sensation.

"Don't hurt her," Loki said to him with a low voice. Thor hated to hear the beguilement in it.

Thor watched as Amora quickly stepped sideways, out of his sword's reach, her hand flying up to cover the small cut to her neck, and he let her, already having lost interest in her even though she was his mortal enemy. Slowly turning his head, Thor found his younger brother standing directly behind him and, for one brief moment, he considered spinning around and grabbing him, considered knocking some sense into his head, but he doubted Loki would hesitate to slit his throat, a thought that greatly saddened him.

"I should have known you were Odin's last line of defense," Loki said, his dark green eyes shining mischievously, and for one short moment, Thor recognized his brother, recognized the boy he'd grown up with, but it vanished in an instant, leaving nothing but a cold, detached, hurt man instead. "Do tell me there is an army of Einherjar waiting outside, waiting for your command to enter this place and capture us." Then added as an afterthought, "Or kill us."

"I came alone," Thor told him, "Father warned me the gem was in danger, that his charms had been broken, but I came alone."

"Then you are a bigger fool than I gave you credit for," Loki said mockingly, taking a step back and allowing Thor the chance to turn around and face him – which he did, his hands clenched tightly around his weapons, but not raising them just yet. He didn't want to fight his brother, but he feared he'd have little choice in the end. One look into Loki's eyes told him how far his brother had fallen, how eagerly he had given into his anger and rage, burying his pain and grief. "I should kill you where you stand," Loki spat.

Thor shook his head. "But you won't."

"Is that why you came alone?" Loki asked, eyes widening for one moment as if he was truly surprised by Thor's answer, by the reasoning behind his actions – perhaps he was. "After everything, you still cling so desperately to your hope?"

"Just kill him already!" Amora called from somewhere behind Thor, but none paid her any attention – at least, Thor wasn't. He only had eyes for his brother, for his reaction, wanting to see if he would really kill him. A part of him would accept death by his hand if that was how the gods decided it to be, but a stronger part refused to give up.

"This is what will happen," Loki began slowly, eyes narrowing, his grip on his dagger tightening, and Thor knew he could send it his way in the blink of an eye. Loki was as lethal with daggers as he was with magic. "Amora and I will take the gem and walk out of here, and you are going to run back to your precious Earth and warn your friends. You will tell them that we are coming and we will make them kneel down before us."

"And you think the stone will help your cause?" Thor asked with disbelief in his voice. He took a step forward, unsure of what exactly he wanted to achieve with that, but it mattered nothing. Loki instantly took a step back, his entire posture immediately guarded and hostile. "Last time Thanos showed you how to wield the power of the Mind Gem, but there is no-one to show you now."

Amora laughed, loud and obnoxious. "You underestimate us!"

Again, Thor ignored her and he sincerely hoped it was working on her nerves. "Loki, please do not–"

"I've really had enough of this chatter," Loki interrupted him with a bored sigh.

Thor knew he was losing his brother's interest, that he was wasting every opportunity he had to change his mind, and if he did nothing now, he and Amora would walk away from this place, the Soul Gem in their possession, but Thor found he cared little for the stone.

"Tony is alive," He said – no, _blurted_ out in a final, desperate attempt to get through to his brother.

He watched as Loki's emerald green eyes became darker, yet colder, a reaction he hadn't expected and one he didn't understand.

"And why should I care?" Loki asked with a sharp, cutting voice. "Next time we cross paths, I shall just slit his throat."

"No," Thor replied stubbornly. He was faintly aware that Amora was moving behind him – probably grabbing the Soul Gem, but not even that thought allowed him to pull his gaze away from his brother. His chest grew tight, his throat achingly dry. "You don't mean that."

Loki laughed cruelly, coldly. "Always holding onto your sentiment."

"Just kill him already!" Amora yelled, obviously annoyed.

Loki's arm flung out sideways and with one flick of his wrist, he silenced her – truly silenced her. Amora parted her lips, one hand moving around her bloody throat, but no sound came from her lips. Her gaze turned angry and humiliation lined her face, but she stepped back, arms crossed before her chest, fingers clenched tightly around the infinity gem.

"I was a fool to think that happiness lay within my reach," Loki said as he took a step closer to Thor, his head cocked sideways, his emerald green eyes … _empty_, "It turns out that Tony was just another cruel trick of life."

"Brother–"

"Tell me," Loki cut in, "How much does he hate me?"

"I'm not a fool," Thor replied, avoiding the question – which clearly amused Loki, because avoiding the question was answer enough, but Thor ignored that small fact. "You may bury your anger and your pain, but I can still see it, and I can see it in Tony's eyes, too."

For the first time in a long time, Loki fell silent, and Thor honestly didn't know whether that was a good thing or a bad one.

"He misses you, Loki," He continued on good luck, "And he misses your so–_oh!_" The pain was sudden and overwhelming, like fire raging through his veins, spreading through his body, and when Thor looked down, he found a dagger buried deep in his side, Loki's hand still clenched around the hilt. He watched, breathlessly, as his brother leaned closer, his lips almost brushing the shell of his ear.

"I don't have a son," Loki whispered callously, "The boy never lived."

Thor gritted his teeth as Loki pulled the dagger from the wound, stepping back.

Amora came to stand beside him, a pleased, smug grin playing around the corners of her lips while her left hand intertwined with Loki's, pulling him away from Thor who was too shocked to speak, to stop Loki from leaving.

"I will see you on Midgard," Loki said impassively and after sending Thor one long look – a look that could mean anything – he walked away.

Thor let him and watched as his little brother's figure became smaller and smaller – as did Amora's – while he wondered what he was doing. He should stop them, take the infinity gem and drag them back to Asgard, but he found himself frozen in place, that sharp pain still filling his body.

Placing one hand over the wound to his side, he sighed, and for the first time, he felt hopeless.

-/-

After throwing open the curtains, allowing in the bright sunlight that instantly flooded the room, Steve turned around to take in the spacious bedroom stretched out before him. It could be considered overstepping certain boundaries, even trespassing, but he was prepared to face Tony's wrath, yet one look at the bed told him that Tony's anger would be the least of his concerns. With a heavy sigh, Steve walked up to the bed on which Tony lay sprawled, an empty bottle of what looked to be very expensive scotch dropped on the floor.

"Stark?" Steve asked loudly. Tony's body jerked at the sound, but his eyes remained closed, clearly unwilling to wake up just yet. "Stark, wake up!" And with that, he kicked Tony's foot that dangled over the edge of the bed.

Tony rolled onto his side, curling up. His short brown hair was a mess, he definitely hadn't shaved in days, and Steve had a feeling he was still wearing the same clothes he wore last week to the meeting with Fury and the rest of the Avengers, minus Dr. Banner. With a heavy sigh, Steve reached down, picking up the empty bottle of scotch, only for his eye to catch yet another bottle tucked away under the nightstand.

"This is getting out of hand, Stark," He said, shaking his head.

"Leave me 'lone," Tony muttered, fingers gripping the bed-sheets and pulling them high over his head, "And close those damn curtains."

_He's behaving like an irresponsible child_ was the first thought that crossed Steve's mind, but of course then he remembered everything that had happened to the guy and he actually felt bad for having the thought in the first place. It shouldn't be a surprise that Tony was lying in bed at two in the afternoon, hung-over or perhaps still drunk, wanting to shut out the world, and Steve honestly felt bad him, but the hard fact remained that this was the worst way to cope. It couldn't continue any longer.

"Get up," Steve said, pulling away the bed-sheets, knowing that Tony was probably cursing his very existence right now – no, make that _definitely_ cursing his very existence. He ducked just in time to avoid the pillow that Tony had thrown his way. "Stark, would you please, for once, behave like an adult and not–" _Oh_, pillow number two!

"Get the fuck out, Steve," Tony growled.

This was exactly what Steve had expected, but that didn't mean he knew how to react to it, that he knew how to get Stark out of bed and into a shower which he so desperately needed. Still, he refused to just walk away. He had a feeling that Tony would make him pay for it, but Steve continued to believe that Tony's behavior was getting out of control, no matter the circumstances. Someone needed to at least try and put a stop to it.

"No," He said stubbornly, "I'm not gonna watch you drink your liver to death."

"I'm fine with it," Tony mumbled.

"Just take a shower, Tony," Steve tried, unable to hide his exasperation. He pulled at the bed-sheets a second time, only to find a third bottle of strong liquor by Tony's stomach. Before he had a chance to comment on it, Tony grabbed hold of the bottle and threw it at his head.

Steve only managed to jump aside just in time, the sound of the bottle shattering against the wall behind him, making him flinch.

"Tony, _Jesus_ _Christ_–"

"I said, _get the fuck out!_" Tony screeched. He quickly sat up in the bed, his brown eyes wide and wild, and for the briefest moment, Steve was taken aback, _stunned_. "Out, Rogers!"

"Fine," Steve replied as he already moved toward the door. He wasn't done just yet, though. "I thought you didn't care anymore," He added, knowing that he was taking one hell of a risk since two more empty bottles lay within Tony's reach, "But to me it looks like you've never stopped caring at all."

Whatever obscenities and curses Tony shouted at him, Steve didn't hear them as he swiftly left the bedroom and closed the door behind him. He heard the shattering of glass again, Tony most likely having thrown another bottle around, and Steve knew he shouldn't walk away, that shouldn't leave him alone right now, but he did, because honestly, he hadn't the faintest idea what to do. He only knew _something _needed to be done.

-/-

Fury's open-door-policy wasn't for everyone. In fact, it was for no-one, but after knocking, Steve still entered the office without really having been invited in and just like he'd expected, he was instantly greeted with that _don't-you-fucking-see-I'm-busy_-look, one he tactically ignored. After closing the door behind him, Steve crossed his arms before his chest and levelled Fury's stare with a calculated one of his own.

"What do you want, Rogers?" Fury asked as he shut his laptop and leaned back in his expensive desk chair, hands folding over his stomach. It made Steve briefly wonder what was on the computer-screen that he obviously wasn't allowed to see. Then again, Fury was a man with many secrets and now one of those secrets had the potential to destroy them all.

"I saw Stark today," He said and he couldn't believe that Fury had the audacity to actually roll his one good eye at the mention of that name. He might not know the exact condition Tony was in, but he wasn't an idiot and he had to have some idea of what was happening to the guy. "He's a mess."

Fury stared at him, seemingly unaffected by his words which aggravated Steve. "And what do you want me to do about that?" Fury asked gruffly. "Send a psychiatrist to his penthouse?"

"You know damn well that that won't solve anything," Steve answered through gritted teeth. He walked up to Fury's desk and looked down at him, somehow hoping that the gesture would make Fury take him more seriously. "Do you have any idea what you've caused?"

Fury's gaze widened with anger and offense. "Are you really blaming me?"

"Why not?" Steve asked fiercely. "Stark spends most of his days drunk or hung-over so if we don't do something soon, there won't be much left of that genius playboy, philanthropist, _whatever_. And Loki is off running around with Amora, vowing to make our world kneel which isn't the first time he's sung that tune, but I have a feeling he's more determined this time, especially since he has that Soul Gem now."

"Thor should have stopped him," Fury replied heatedly and he rose from his seat and met Steve's gaze at the same eye-level.

Steve faintly remembered that Fury was his boss, but he decided not to care about that at the moment. He'd finally set his priorities straight and for once he'd decided he was on Stark's side, not Fury's and definitely not the Council's. "None of this should have happened in the first place," He said with a sharp voice, and he couldn't believe he was actually speaking to his boss in this tone. He didn't like to have arguments, and he certainly didn't like to have a confrontation with the Director of SHIELD himself, but something needed to be done. He couldn't just sit back and watch it all go to hell.

"I had my orders," Fury said more calmly, though he remained standing and staring at Steve with a cold and hard look in his eye.

"That never stopped you before," Steve replied. He straightened his back and crossed his arms before his chest again. "When the Council sent that nuclear bomb to stop Loki and his army of Chitauri, you disobeyed them. You could have disobeyed their order this time too."

For one brief moment, Fury faltered, a heavy sigh escaping his lips, his gaze falling to his hands. "We can't change what's done," He said after a short silence while he sat back down, his gaze suddenly turning so incredibly burdened, "Stark will get over it and Loki will be stopped."

Steve could hardly believe what he was hearing. "At what cost?" He demanded to know. "We kill Loki? How on Earth will that help Stark? Hell, do you really think Thor will just let us kill him?"

"He'll have no other choice," Fury noted.

Steve shook his head, anger coursing through his veins. "You're in way over your head, Director," He said, "It would be easier to just admit your fault."

"And that will solve anything?" Fury asked, shaking his head as well. "No, the decision was made with good reason and you know it, Rogers. Stark and Loki were never fit to be together, they were two ticking time-bombs to begin with, let alone that they were fit to raise a child. At least this way, the boy is safe and halfway across the world, hidden from sight."

"Yeah," Steve muttered as he stepped back from the desk, eyes not leaving for Fury just yet, "Yet somehow I have a feeling he'd been equally safe here." With that, he opened the door and walked away.

**TBC …**


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: Thank you so much for all the feedback! It was amazing to read your thoughts, emotions, reactions … You have a lot of questions and I hope this chapter answers a few of them. Enjoy!**

**The Lover That Went Wrong**

**- Chapter Ten -  
**

"Ready, aim–"

"_Sir, is this really a good idea?_"

"–fire!" Tony pulled the trigger, a blast of energy shooting from the gun, the force causing him to stumble back and blow a hole in the mannequin's chest that stood about five yards away. Smoke filled the basement, the smell of burning plastic unpleasant to Tony's nose, but he'd become used to that. "Look at that, Jarvis," He announced happily as he gazed at the doll that, for all intents and purposes, had been killed.

"_I would suggest recalibrating the god-stunner, sir,_" Jarvis said with his typical emotionless voice, "_Data from the mannequin is streaming into the server right now_."

He didn't have any interest in recalibrating the gun or studying that data right now. What he wanted was to toy with the gun a bit, see how powerful he could make it, before having to turn it into a real stunner, which would just spoil all the fun. Lifting the gun a fifth time, he aimed it at the last mannequin standing, and with a grin on his face – because truly, he was having fun for the first time in weeks – he aimed the weapon at the mannequin's head and fired. Again, he stumbled back, but what made him laugh was the sight of the doll's head being blow off. Next time he did that, he would fill the head with paint. Now _that _would make for great special effects.

"Jarvis, I'm gonna need new mannequins," He announced, turning back to one of the many work-benches stationed in this basement. He placed the gun-that-would-soon-be-a-stunner down, the handle slightly warm, so it needed to cool. With his hands free now, he picked up the glass of whiskey he'd poured himself not ten minutes ago and took a generous gulp, enjoying the way it burned his throat as it made its way down to his otherwise empty stomach. Was he aware that he had a bit of a drinking problem? Very much so. Did he care? Not at all.

"_Of course, sir,_" Jarvis replied, only to completely ruin Tony's mood by adding, "_Steve Rogers is making his way down, sir. He will be here now_."

The door to the basement opened not two seconds later, revealing the Captain, and Tony groaned loudly, wanting Steve to hear. "Thanks for the early heads' up, Jarv," He mumbled before downing the rest of his drink, already having a feeling that he would need more alcohol in his system in order to deal with Steve's inevitable pep-talk.

"God, what is that smell?" Steve asked as he walked into the basement, his face contorting rather funnily in Tony's opinion.

"Well, it's not me for a change," Tony replied, grinning. He glanced around to see where he'd dumped his bottle of whiskey. "I took a shower this morning, so I really hope you haven't come to nag about that."

"That's not why I'm here," Steve said.

"Then I hope you haven't come to fish for an apology either." Tony stepped around the work-bench and grabbed the bottle of whiskey that he'd apparently left near Dum-E, which really hadn't been a smart decision. Snatching the bottle from the table, Dum-E buzzed almost disapprovingly, but Tony still went on to pour himself another glass, wondering only for a moment how many glasses he'd already had in the last hour. "You completely invaded my privacy," He continued when Steve didn't instantly reply, "I don't regret throwing stuff at your head."

"That's not why I'm here either," Steve said, and Tony was actually surprised that the guy sounded as calm as he did. Of course, then Steve had to be an ass and pull the nearly empty bottle of whiskey from his hand, making Tony sigh exasperatedly, because here it came – the pep-talk. "We need to talk, Tony."

It left him with a choice. He could be an ass and tell Steve to go and nag to someone else, to leave him alone, or for once he could suck it up, pretend to listen to whatever Blondie had to say and then hope he'd be left alone for at least two weeks. Option number one never really worked out for him so Tony decided to try out option number two.

"Do tell," He said, only realizing a second too late that he should probably drop the sarcasm in his voice and behavior. If he wanted Steve to leave him alone for weeks to come, he would have to at least _appear _interested.

"Listen, Tony," Steve began, moving to stand on the other side of the work-bench and for one brief moment, Tony could have sworn to guy seemed uneasy, restless, even nervous. It was so unlike Steve that it had Tony grow alert. "I should have told you a long time ago and I want to start with saying that I'm sorry that I didn't."

"Oh God, if this is a love declaration, I'm gonna stop you right there."

"_Tony_."

It took biting down on his lower lip to prevent himself from laughing.

"Fine, fine," He said, unable to hide the amusement in his voice because while he felt rather curious and slightly anxious to hear what Steve had to say, the guy was just such an easy prey to laugh with.

Taking another swig from his whiskey, Tony came to the conclusion that the alcohol didn't have the same effect it had a few months ago. One bottle used to be enough to dull his senses a bit, but now that wasn't the case anymore, and he was well aware that he shouldn't be drinking and working at the same time, but who was he going to hurt down here? Exactly, no-one.

"Say what you have to say, Rogers, so I can focus on the god-stunner again because if you guys use it in this condition, you'll end up blowing the biblical whore's head off."

Steve remained quiet for a long moment, long enough to make Tony feel uncomfortable and more than slightly anxious.

"I don't know how else to tell you, so I'll just say it," He finally started, breaking the silence, "Your son is alive."

Tony stared at him and waited. He waited for Steve to burst with laughter and tell him that it had been a really bad joke. He waited for him to say that was a lie, but that he'd said it to have his full attention. He waited for him to say something, _anything_, but Steve stayed quiet, his uncertain blue eyes staring at him, and Tony wasn't sure what was going on.

His grip on the glass of whiskey grew so tight he feared he would break it, so he slowly put it down on the work-bench, strategically avoiding Steve's piercing eyes. "I don't know why you would say something like that," He said, shocked to hear his voice soft, cautious and, most of all, hurt, "But that's really fucking low, Steve."

"You know me, Tony," Steve replied, and there wasn't a hint of humor in his voice which was the first real indication that this wasn't a joke at all, "I wouldn't laugh about something like this, I wouldn't lie. SHIELD never approved of your relationship with Loki and when he ended up pregnant, the Council went as far as to say they had an international threat on their hands."

"An international thr-?" Tony couldn't even finish the sentence. His shocked, stunned, _angry _gaze turned to Steve, and for the first time in a long time he actually wanted to punch him in the face. He wanted to _hurt _him because everything he said felt like a blow to his stomach, making him feel sick and nauseous.

Steve stayed remarkably calm. "They believed that should Loki raise the child, it would only be a matter of time before they had another enemy on their hands," He continued and truly, Tony appreciated hearing the truth like that, but it also really made him want to grab the god-stunner and fire it at Steve's head, "They were already planning ways to somehow separate the boy from you, but then everything went south and you brought Loki to SHIELD and–"

"Oh, this is my fault?" Tony asked incredulously and bitterly.

"No!" Steve's eyes widened with a mixture of exasperation, fear and regret, but Tony couldn't care less what Steve felt or how difficult it was for him to break this news to him. "I never said that. I only meant to say that the Council saw their chance and they took it."

"And you knew," Tony said with a low voice. Every muscle of his body grew tense, his hands turning into fists. "You knew and you never said a word." For one brief moment, Steve's composure crumbled, his blue eyes softening before he cast his gaze down, seemingly unable to look at Tony's growing rage. "Why?" He asked sharply.

Again, Steve stayed quiet. The once so honorable man was quickly losing Tony's respect – _fuck_, he'd already lost it. Steve was supposed to be honest and honorable and righteous, but now Tony was looking at him and he saw nothing more than a liar, a deceiver and a hypocrite.

"That's just great," Tony breathed, desperately trying to control himself, desperately trying not to give into his anger and scream and shout. That would gain him nothing, but the longer this conversation continued, the harder it became, because he _understood_ now. "That's just terrific," He said angrily, "You agreed with them. You didn't think Loki and I were fit to raise a child."

Finally, Steve seemed to have found the courage to look back up and meet Tony's eyes. "I made a mistake–"

"Fuck you, Rogers!" Tony yelled, watching Steve flinch at his sudden outburst. He sucked in a deep breath, only to realize that he no longer cared about staying calm and decent and civil. "Just fuck you," He repeated more calmly, though there was no denying the hatred in his voice, "Yeah, Loki and I might not have been a match made in heaven and we certainly weren't going to win the couple-of-the-year-award, but we loved that kid, or we would have loved it."

"I'm sorry," Steve said, and truly, Tony could tell he was sincere and that he regretted his silence, but none of that changed the fact that his betrayal – and he had most definitely betrayed him – had sent him in a downward spiral and had pushed Loki right into Amora's arms. "I'll help you find him and–"

"No," Tony quickly interjected, shaking his head. He was faintly aware that he was breathing hard and shallow, and that he should blink now and again as he glared at Steve, but he couldn't control the hostility and rage grabbing hold of him. "No, I'm done with you, _Captain_. I don't need your help."

"Tony, please–"

"Get out," Tony sneered, hating the fact that Steve didn't instantly obey. The idea of grabbing hold of the god-stunner and aiming it at his head became more and more attractive. "I want you and every other SHIELD-operative out of my building. _Now_."

"The others didn't know," Steve said softly, "I discovered it by chance."

In one smooth movement, Tony cleared the contents of the work-bench, sending every piece of paper, blueprint, tool and the god-stunner to the floor.

Steve flinched a second time, his eyes closing, his lips pressed together into two thin lines.

Tony could feel he was mere seconds away from jumping over the table and punching the guy in the face. It would hurt his fist more than it would hurt Steve's face, but he wouldn't mind.

"I don't fucking care," He hissed, his eyes wide and frenzied, "I'm done with you, I'm done with the Avengers and I am most _certainly_ done with SHIELD."

Steve didn't move. His eyes opened, remorse and sorrow filling them, but he said nothing.

"I swear, Rogers," Tony said slowly, darkly, "If you don't leave now, I will grab the god-stunner and I will fucking use it on you if you don't get out of my sight right now."

Steve gazed into Tony's eyes for three more seconds before nodding once and then he left. Tony stared at his retreating form and he hoped that his anger would become manageable as Steve disappeared from his sight, but nothing changed. Rage made his blood boil and his fingers itched to destroy. Without thinking, he grabbed the god-stunner from the floor and fired it at the mannequins that had managed to stay standing. Just five seconds later, nothing remained of them, but Tony still didn't feel better. He still felt like Steve had stabbed him in the chest, only it hurt more than when Loki actually didstab him.

_Loki_.

He had to know. Breathing heavily, his heart beating wildly in his chest as if trying to leap out, Tony threw the god-stunner aside, uncaring where it landed, and made his way out of the basement. He had to find Loki. He had to tell him.

-/-

"It's a bit extravagant, isn't it?"

Tony spun around, his gaze instantly landing on the man standing not five yards away from him. There had been a time where the mere sight of Loki had his heart race with excitement and passion, and while it felt like his heart was still trying to burst from his chest, Tony had a feeling it was for entirely different reasons now. There was still excitement and passion – not that he would admit that at this point in time – but there was also an ounce of fear filling him, a small voice in the back of his head telling him to be careful, because last time he'd come face to face with Loki Odinson, he'd been stabbed in the chest, literally and figuratively, too.

"I didn't know how else to reach you," He said, looking back up at the sky to find four letters blazing between the clouds. It had been a challenge to burn Loki's name in the sky, but he was Tony Stark and mixing the right chemicals had been easy. Getting them up in the sky and having them detonate had been easy, too, since he was still Iron Man, and frankly, he was proud of the result.

Returning his gaze to Loki, somehow expecting him to stand directly in front of him, one of those shiny green daggers in his hand, Tony found that the god of mischief still stood a few yards away, looking at him with narrowed eyes.

"It's not like you left a phone-number or anything," He added in a vain attempt to lose some of that suffocating tension between them.

"Well, I'm here," Loki said. He sounded cold and distant and calculated, but Tony knew Loki like no-one else did – not even Thor – and he'd heard that faint edge of emotion to his voice, that hint of sentiment that told him that a part of him still cared. Or perhaps those were only his personal hopes and he was imagining everything. "Stop staring at me and say what you have to say, Stark. I don't have all day."

Tony nodded, knowing he had to get to the point immediately before Loki became bored and just left, but this wasn't exactly the type of news one could just _blurt _out.

"I need your help," He began, but of course Loki had to be dick and already interrupt him.

"My help?" He asked, his emerald green eyes widening with disbelief, and then he was laughing, the sound high and loud, and Tony hated it. He wanted the old Loki back, the one he'd spent months fooling around with, the one with whom he'd danced in his living room and had dinner with almost every single night. "You have a lot of nerve asking for my help, Stark."

"He's alive," Tony said, not knowing what else he could say or how he could say it. He suddenly empathized with Steve – that bastard – and understood why he'd had such trouble breaking the news to him, not that that excused him of his actions, of course. Tony still wanted to rip his head off of his shoulders. "Loki, our son is alive."

Emerald green eyes instantly narrowed and Tony knew that should looks be able to kill, he would be dead already. Perhaps he would still die. Loki wasn't one known for patience or reason and he definitely had a shoot-first-and-ask-questions-later-attitude. He'd probably – _gladly_ – stab him in the chest a second time should that make him feel any better, and for one brief moment, Tony wondered what the hell he was doing, why he was telling Loki this without back-up or without wearing his suit. He really should have kept his suit on. He was seconds away from making the same mistake all over again after all. Honestly, Mensa was bound to ask his membership-card back.

But Loki didn't attack. He didn't throw any knives at his head or shoved him off of this roof with a simple magic-spell. When he spoke, however, his voice sounded low and dangerous, like an animal cornered, and Tony had a feeling he was only seconds away from lashing out.

"If this is some pathetic way to get me to–"

"Oh, come on!" Tony said sharply, loudly, and it was probably the wrong way to approach the situation, but the truth was that he was upset, too. He had no idea how to handle this either, but he was trying and that had to earn him some points. "I know I'm a liar and cheater and a drinker, but I wouldn't lie about this. Honestly, the fact that you'd even think that offends me. Fredric is alive, Loki, and SHIELD has him, but I don't know where and that's why I need your help."

Whatever reaction he'd expected – disbelief, anger, elation, horror, bewilderment – it didn't come. Loki simply continued to stare at him with sharp, narrowed and apprehensive eyes, with his jaw clenched together and the muscles of his neck so obviously tense. Tony could practically see that thick vein in his neck pulsate with anger. So there was definitely outrage there, but that was about as far as Tony got to understanding him. He definitely couldn't begin to comprehend what else was going through that pretty head of his at the moment.

"It's been over four months," Loki said after a long and heavy pause.

_Ah_. So that was what had been going through his head.

"If you think I've known for a while already, you're wrong," Tony said. He dared to take a step closer to Loki and when Loki didn't step back or draw a knife or hissed at him, he dared to take another one, and another one. "I only learned the truth yesterday and now I'm here. This isn't some kind of trick, Loki, you have to trust me."

He stood directly in front of him now and it was hard to keep eye-contact, but he didn't look away. He didn't reach out to touch him just yet either, no matter how much he wanted to. Being so close to him, watching the turmoil behind his eyes, it made Tony remember that Loki was a being with emotions and sentiments just like everyone else. He'd spent weeks, months even, hating him for leaving, for hooking up with Amora, but now he knew that they needed each other more than they realized.

"What about Thor?" Loki suddenly asked and for the first time, his anger rang clearly in his voice. Tony wished he wasn't so afraid of him. There had been a time where he trusted that man with his life, but not anymore. Now he was afraid to get stabbed in the back should he turned away from him, but on the other hand, this was _Loki_ and no matter how hard it was to trust him, Tony couldn't deny that he had fallen in love with him a long time ago and that after everything, he still loved him.

"He didn't know either," Tony answered, and then, for the first time since he'd been with him, he did something he wasn't sure he could get away with. He _lied_. "No-one knew," He said, gazing directly into Loki's shielded eyes.

He hated Steve for what he'd done and he definitely enjoyed his little fantasies of crushing his skull, but he knew that he'd never actually try and kill him for his betrayal. But now he was talking about Loki and there was no doubt that he wouldn't hesitate to drive a knife through Steve's heart should he know the truth. No, it was best if he didn't know at all.

"But I'm done with SHIELD," He added when he found Loki gritting his teeth together, apparently not liking what he was hearing. Those new words made his features soften, however, and he inhaled deeply. "And if the others choose to keep working for Fury, then I'm done with them, too."

Loki remained quiet for a long time, his gaze piercing Tony's, searching for the lie, searching for the betrayal, and Tony felt his chest grow painfully tight. Loki was a master in deceit and Tony was just … _Tony_, so could he really expect to get away with lying? Apparently he could, because Loki said nothing and finally Tony dared to take a risk even though it could cost him a limb.

He reached out and placed a hand to the side of Loki's neck, feeling the frantic pulsating of a vein beneath his fingertips. "We have to bring him home," He said softly. He watched as a hint of a smile suddenly curved the edges of Loki's lips upward and he felt a shiver run down his spine, because it was the kind of smile that he hated – cold and calculated and cruel.

"I suppose you want this back," Loki said as he lifted a hand, an emerald green stone lying in the palm of it.

Tony found himself staring at it for a long time before he looked back up to meet Loki's expectant eyes. This was a test, but he didn't fear failing. "Do you know how to use it?" He asked.

Loki frowned ever so slightly, clearly not having expected _that_, and Tony enjoyed knowing that he could still surprise the god of mischief. "I know how to torture souls with it, if that's what you mean," He said.

Slowly, carefully, Tony folded his other hand over Loki's, making his long, pale fingers close around the gem again. "Then keep it," He said and he really couldn't believe that he was saying that in the first place, but somehow he didn't care what damage Loki could do with it, "It might come in useful."

"Look at you," Loki said softly, his eyes trained on Tony's hand on top of his. Tony watched as tension visibly slipped from his shoulders and he somehow didn't appear as hostile anymore, and Tony knew right then and there that there was still hope for them, or maybe it was the calm before the storm. Either way, it was equally terrifying. "The great Anthony Stark is turning his back on his old ways."

"No," Tony said resolutely, "I'm not turning my back on anything. I'm just done working for a corrupt organization that makes everyone believe they are the good guys while they're nothing more than liars and kidnappers."

Loki hummed and glanced back up. There was no denying that those bright green eyes held a hint of amusement. "I remember telling Miss Romanoff approximately the same."

"And you were right," Tony said through gritted teeth, anger coursing through his veins, and he had a feeling Loki enjoyed seeing that in his features, "But don't dare say _I told you so_."

Loki's fingers curled around Tony's wrist close to his neck. There was no denying that his gaze darkened, that his attitude grew hostile and dangerous all over again. Tony wasn't sure what was happening, and for one brief moment he thought that was it, that Loki still didn't believe him and that he was going to kill him now. Nothing happened, however.

"I will burn them for this, Tony," Loki hissed after a short silence.

"I won't stop you," Tony instantly replied and it was true. He wouldn't stop Loki if he were to burn down every SHIELD-facility on this planet. He'd probably hand him the lit match that could start it all at this point. Before he could say anything else, however, his gaze was drawn to movement over Loki's left shoulder and he groaned inwardly. "But first, I think you'll have to deal with _that_."

Because there she stood, _Amora_, and she didn't look particularly happy. Loki spun around to face her while Tony was seconds from calling his suit and preparing for battle, but there was something in the way Loki and Amora were looking at each other that told him that this wasn't his fight somehow – if there even would be a fight.

"What is … _this?_" Amora asked with a voice as smooth as silk, and _that _Tony hadn't expected. He had thought she would scream and shout and curse everything and everyone, but there she stood, seemingly so calm and composed, though there was no denying that her gaze stood hard and bleak. "Don't tell me that the two of you are getting back together again," She said. Clearly she found the idea both ridiculous and disgusting.

"I'm afraid our partnership ends here," Loki replied. He took a step sideways and Tony was fully aware that he was actually shielding him from Amora's gaze, but he would have none of that. He wasn't afraid of that woman and he wouldn't mind butting heads with her. The idea of pushing her off of the roof they were currently on was actually very appealing.

Amora tossed her head back and laughed, the sound loud and sharp, and Tony found himself slightly concerned. As much as he liked to believe that she was weak and nothing compared to Loki, he knew that could easily match his strength. "Do you really expect me to just walk away?" She asked with a high voice that vibrated with incredulity. "I came here to rule this world, with or without you by my side. You turning your back on me – which doesn't surprise me, to be honest – won't stop me."

Tony expected a fight to happen any moment now, expected Loki to charge forward or perhaps throw a few daggers in her direction, but none of that happened. Loki took just one step forward and lifted a hand, Amora's gaze instantly widening and Tony hated that he couldn't properly see what was going on, what could have Amora – _Amora _– actually look frightened for once.

"Will you fight me?" Loki asked lightly, as if he hadn't a care in the world.

"How dare you," She spat, both angry and fearful. Her hands turned to fists and her face paled. "You will regret this, Loki. I could have given you everything you ever wanted and you're throwing it all away, and for what? For _him?_"

"Whatever I wanted in the past, I don't want it anymore," Loki replied, "People change, Amora, and you better get used to it." He lifted his hand just a little bit higher and only then did Tony spot the green stone. _Ha_, he wouldn't actually mind if Loki showed him the power of the gem with Amora as his guinea pig. "Don't come back. We're done."

For one long moment, Amora stared at him and then she was gone, having disappeared in the blink of an eye, and Tony hated her for doing that. Somehow he didn't like the idea of her out there somewhere, doing God knows what. She would most likely plot her revenge or something. It was predictive, yet not at all reassuring. He would have been much happier knowing that she was rotting in some dark cell. Perhaps one day he'd get that wish, but right now, he only wanted to focus on Loki – Loki who turned back to face him as he slipped the Infinity Stone into some hidden pocket of his leather coat.

"Let's find our son," He said with a hint of a smile on his face.

Tony didn't object to that.

**TBC …**


	11. Chapter 11

**The Lover That Went Wrong**

**- Chapter Eleven -**

"What do you need me to do?" Loki asked.

Tony glanced sideways and, for one brief moment, he was speechless as he found Loki standing beside him because who would have thought that he'd be standing side by side with him again, that they'd be allies after everything that had happened between them? He couldn't wrap his head around it, but then again, they'd found common ground. The only reason why they weren't clawing each other's eyes out was because they were determined to find their son and they needed each other for that – or so Tony liked to believe. He refused to admit just yet that he felt excited to be so close to Loki again, that he felt stronger as he stood beside him, seconds away from going against SHIELD and every agent inside that building ahead of them.

"I need you to keep them busy," He replied while turning his gaze ahead again. Every SHIELD facility – the one they were looking at included – was a fort with the world's best agents and assassins working in there and guarding it. Attempting to break in was foolish so Tony thanked whatever God was still out there that for all his brilliance and ingenuity, he could be very stupid. Or perhaps 'breaking in' was the wrong word. After all, he had an entrance card and if he walked through the halls of that place, no-one would throw him a second glance – or maybe they would since he was Tony Stark, _Iron Man_, and he was both famous and notorious.

No, the _real _stupid part of his plan was the fact that he was going to break into Fury's office and hack his computer. He wished he could do that from his basement, but – sadly, yet not surprisingly – Fury wasn't dumb enough to connect his laptop to any network. So Tony needed to get his hands on the actual device and this was the only way.

"That's not a problem," Loki grinned, his green gaze fixed on the entrance of the building. They were at the edge of the city, but the whole place looked rather abandoned. There were various buildings surrounding them, but Tony had a feeling they all belonged to SHIELD – probably storage units and possibly weapon's depots. They would have to be quick and clever; in and out.

"Don't kill them all," Tony said, and he instantly found Loki's narrowed, skeptical eyes on him, "Oh, don't give me that look," He added before Loki had the chance to speak or, most likely, sneer something at him, "We're here for one thing; a location. I don't want this to become a blood-fest."

"How dull," Loki drawled while rolling his eyes. He lifted both his hands, two daggers appearing in them out of nowhere, his fingers instantly curling around the hilts of the weapons. "I'd promise you that I won't kill them all, but I can't. If they come near me or threaten the success of this plan, I will slit their throats."

For one long moment, Tony gazed at Loki, but he only needed one second to understand that he wasn't kidding. He _would _kill them all if that meant getting their son back and maybe he shouldn't feel so scared by that. They were on the same side after all, but the idea still didn't sit very well with Tony. Before he could speak up, however, Loki threw him a dark glance, one that instantly silenced him, and Tony was uncertain of what he'd said or done exactly that could have Loki so visibly angry all of a sudden.

"You said you would not stop me if I wanted to burn them for what they have done," Loki said with a low, almost hissing voice, and _ah yes_, Tony did remember telling him that, "I suppose I was wrong about you. You do nothave what it takes."

"Maybe not," Tony snapped back. He felt both surprised and relieved to find that his unwillingness to just take those words had taken Loki off guard. "I just don't want anyone dead who doesn't have to be."

Loki hummed. "That's the difference between you and me, Stark," He said, shaking his head ever so slightly. Tony couldn't help but dislike the way Loki addressed him by his last name which was a ridiculous notion, he knew that, but somehow he thought they were passed last-name-basis after everything that had happened between them. "You are still trying to be a hero in this story. You haven't yet realized that you are already turning into a villain."

"I'm really not in the mood for your Shakespearean deductions or physiological illations," Tony smiled sharply, and for the first time, he knew his gaze stood cold and calculated. He could tell Loki was amused by it, could tell by the way his dark green eyes lit up, by the way the corners of his lips curved upward ever so slightly. "Just keep them busy, keep them off of my back."

"Of course," Loki said, eyes turning back to the building ahead of them, "Do hurry up. The longer I have to entertain them, the more their survival-rates will dwindle."

Tony didn't say anything anymore. He walked toward the building, wishing he could wear his Iron Man suit, but of course he couldn't. Everyone would instantly know he was up to something and he didn't really feel like shooting this place up. He'd leave that to Loki.

Without looking back, without wanting to see that terrifying look in Loki's eyes – because it would speak of murder and chaos and ruin – he entered the building and headed for Fury's office.

-/-

It was as if the mortals weren't even trying anymore.

At first, they had come at him so very fiercely and determine. It had almost been admirable, but after having pierced a few hearts, killing those agents swiftly and painlessly – which would be his only real kindness of the day – Loki found that the others were rather … _hesitant_. They were still firing bullets at him, in every shape and with every kind of gun, but he deflected them so very easily and _truly_, was this the best they could do? Had they learned nothing? It was no wonder they needed a bunch of dressed up dolls with impossibly good facial structure to defend them. If they hadn't had the Avengers, he would have so easily defeated them all, making them bow down before him.

Honestly, it was getting ridiculous. Were they even trying? Bullets weren't going to hurt him, they definitely were not going to kill him, nor was that flame-thrower one idiot had fired at him. Perhaps sending that man to his death by fire had been a bit dramatic, but … well … he had tried to light _him _on fire first. His screams still echoed through his mind, but Loki wasn't particularly bothered by that.

The others had learned how dangerous and unpredictable he was, however, and their attacks had grown rather dull. Loki felt bored and if Stark didn't return soon, he would just blow each and every SHIELD agent into a thousand bits and pieces, or maybe he could try the Soul Gem on them. He'd seen its effects on a few Asgardians hundreds of years ago and he wondered what would happen should he use it on a mortal soul. It was an untested theory.

Another dozen bullets came at him and Loki, sighing exasperatedly, easily threw up a force-shield to protect himself, only to send those bullets right back where they came from. He watched in delight as two SHIELD agents fell down, blood pooling beneath their bodies.

More men came his way and Loki smiled at the sight. They were nothing more than lambs led to the slaughter-bank. One flick of his wrist later and more daggers were sent their way. Some got their shoulders pierced, others had their throats cut. Loki didn't care whether they lived or died. He simply reveled at the chaos surrounding him, at the screams reaching his ears, at the smell of blood filling the air. Another flick of his wrist later and flames erupted all around them, and since Tony wasn't around to stop him, they would all burn.

Something heavy and hard knocked against his shoulder, and Loki almost lost his balance. Furiously, ready to tear apart whoever had dared to touch him, he spun around, only to find himself facing his brother – _no_, _Thor_ – who easily caught Mjolnir as it returned to his hand.

"Enough, Loki," Thor said brazenly, his blue eyes wide and confident, as if he had any say in what was happening, what _would_ happen.

Loki wanted to laugh in his face, but he was too irritated and flustered at the moment. His attention had slipped and the flames around him had died out. The chaos surrounding him had lessened and an eerie silence had settled around them, most SHIELD agents having run – out of fear, to get more weapons, to get back-up, _whatever_ – and those that couldn't run were smart enough to keep quiet.

"_Enough_," Thor repeated more calmly.

"I was wondering when you'd show up to protect your pets," Loki said sharply. He glanced around in search of the other Avengers, but he found no-one and it made him wonder what in the Nine Realms Thor's intentions were.

"That is not why I am here," Thor replied without missing a beat. The sincerity in his voice was enough to have Loki narrow his eyes. He loathed Thor's attitude, the way he still seemed to want to help, but there was no denying that his first concern were these pathetic Midgardians. Loki honestly didn't understand why Thor loved them so much, why he risked so much for them, why he would _die _for them.

"Then why did you just stop me?" Loki asked. A ghost of a smirk appeared on his face, because seeing Thor's reticence was nothing short of amusing. "Oh, of course," He continued before Thor had a chance to, "I forgot that you are incapable of standing by idly, of doing nothing. That's not in your nature. You're too noble, too kind and too heroic."

Loki's words could have been a compliment had they been spoken by anyone else, but the way they had been spoken made them sound like the lowest of insults. At least, that had been the intention, but Thor looked strangely, _annoyingly_ unbothered.

"I know about Fredric," Thor said. Loki's hands turned to fists, uncertain if he would like what Thor would say next, but he assumed he wouldn't like it all. "I know he is alive."

"I've heard you were unaware," Loki said. For one brief moment, he felt his chest tighten painfully with the idea that Thor might have known all along, and that betrayal would hurt him more than he dared to admit. "Let me swear to you right here and now that if ever I learn that you knew all along, I _will_ burn you for it."

Thor's gaze steadily met his. "Then I'll never burn."

"I will get him back," Loki said with heat in his voice. He knew Thor wanted to protect this world, but he was entirely willing to rip it apart if that meant getting his son back. "I'll get him back even if it means I have to murder every SHIELD agent I encounter."

"I'm not here to stop you from finding him," Thor replied. He took a step forward, but Loki wasn't quite ready to be close to him. He quickly stepped back, every muscle in his body growing tense. "I'm here to help you, brother."

No matter how hard Loki tried to hide the shock in his eyes, he knew he was failing. Thor had that kind of effect on him. He always failed when Thor was around – _that_ _bastard_.

"You look surprised."

"I suppose I shouldn't be," Loki sighed after a long silence. _Noble, kind and heroic_ – his brother. Of course he would want to help.

"But I will not watch as you kill any more agents," Thor added. He had the audacity to raise his hammer, his blue gaze widening, and Loki couldn't believe that Thor had the nerve to set terms. "And if you do, I _will _stop you."

"I don't need your help," Loki snarled. He was seconds away from throwing a dagger at Thor's face or perhaps he would stab him in the side again. Tony probably wouldn't like it, but fuck him. Thor was being an ass and Loki didn't have to explain his actions to anyone.

"Maybe not," Thor said, and without warning, he threw Mjolnir into Loki's direction.

Only … the hammer didn't hit him. It flew straight passed him and Loki watched – shocked, horrified and humiliated – as it knocked aside a SHIELD agent who had tried to sneak up on him with a large knife in hand. Loki gritted his teeth together and exhaled sharply through his nose. The only reason that he hadn't heard that moron approach was because Thor had been distracting him, and now Thor considered himself the hero once again.

"Maybe you do," Thor continued as he caught the hammer again – fucking show-off – and Loki couldn't help but roll his eyes, "If you want to take on an organization like SHIELD, you need back-up, brother."

Anger coursed through his veins, his nails digging deep into the skin of his palms with how tightly he was balling his hands into fists. "If an army of agents stand between me and my son," He hissed with a low and dangerous voice, "I will kill every single one of them if I have to. I won't need your help for that."

"We can get him back without a massacre," Thor said stubbornly. _Oh_, how Loki hated him in that moment. "But only if we work together. You know I am right, brother. We've always been stronger together. We've always had each other's backs."

Loki couldn't help but take a step forward, but only because that would make it easier to slit Thor's throat if he said any more of that horrifying bullshit. "The only reason why I've had your back in the past is because one day, I want to stick a knife into it."

Thor shook his head, rejecting Loki's words, which only angered him more. "That day has yet to come," He said with nothing but conviction in his voice, "And it won't come soon either."

Loki smiled sharply, coldly. "Always so hopeful."

Thor smiled warmly. "You know me."

Loki's gaze shifted to Tony approaching hurriedly. At first his dark brown eyes widened as they took in the various SHIELD agents littered around – some dead, some just injured – but then he seemed to shrug of the disturbance that filled him and focused on Thor and Loki instead.

"What did I miss?" Tony asked so very casually – like only he could – his gaze actually lightening up at the sight of Thor.

Loki suppressed the urge to roll his eyes for the umpteenth time in under two minutes. "Thor here is going to help us get our son back," He told him with that fake smile he'd gotten so good at, "I am absolutely thrilled." If Thor felt irked about his insincerity, he didn't show it. "Now tell me, do you have a location?"

Tony's gaze instantly turned sorrowful as he shook his head. "Fury was smart enough not to keep anything on his computer. I only have a country; Ireland."

"Is it a big country?" Loki asked. His heart was pounding within his chest and nerves claimed him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this nervous, but then again, they were talking about Fredric and the plan hadn't gone according to their wishes and now he had the urge to snap a few necks because of that.

"Not the biggest," Tony answered, "But we can't go searching every house."

"Then bring Fury to me," Loki hissed, "I'll torture the location out of him."

"That would be useless," A new voice said.

Loki spun around to find Steve Rogers standing behind him, wearing his fancy outfit and holding that ridiculous shield of his so very tightly, as if he expected an attack any minute – and perhaps that would happen. Loki's eyes narrowed at the sight of him. He never did like that man. Too honorable, too kind and too heroic – like Thor really.

"Captain," Thor greeted him.

They probably did weekly competitions in honor and morality. It made Loki feel nauseous. "Is there an Avengers-assembly I haven't been informed about?" He asked with another fake smile filling his features. "I should have brought more daggers."

"Fury doesn't know where your son is," Steve said, tactically ignoring Loki's comments, "The Council doesn't trust him enough. Only Council-members know the exact location."

"Well, excuse me, Rogers," Tony said, and Loki was surprised to hear such hostility in Tony's voice as he addressed the Captain, "But the identity of the members isn't exactly public knowledge, so unless–" Loki watched as Steve's lips turned to two thin, white lines and _oh_, this was going to be brilliant, "That's just great, Steve," Tony snapped, "That's _fantastic!_ Anything else you want to share with us while you're at it?"

Just like before, Steve ignored the comments. "I already went to see one of them," He said, his gaze shifting awkwardly between the three men standing before him. He looked guilty and apprehensive, and somehow Loki couldn't help but study his behavior. Tony's voice echoed through his mind. _No-one knew_. Bullshit. "She gave me the address," Steve continued, but before he could say more, Tony interrupted him.

"Because you're BFF's with the Council now."

Steve's tact was starting to annoy Loki. "He's in south Ireland, on Bere Island. It's hardly inhabited so it's the perfect location for a hidden SHIELD facility."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Thor asked, sounding eager to get over there.

Loki couldn't blame him.

"Can you teleport over there?" Tony asked.

Loki shook his head, hating himself in that moment because for all his power, he couldn't. "No," He answered, "It's halfway across the world. There would be no telling where I'd end up since I haven't a clue where I'm actually heading."

If Tony was disappointed, he didn't show it. "I have a jet."

"Don't bother," Steve said. All eyes were suddenly on him again, and he didn't look particularly pleased about that. "I already contacted Clint and Natasha and gave them the exact coordinates. They're heading over here as we speak with a Quinjet. It will get us there faster."

Tony's smile was one Loki didn't think he had in him. It was false and sharp and so very bitter. "How thoughtful."

"I'm just trying to help," Steve replied heatedly.

"Obviously," Tony said, nodding his head a bit too fervently. He placed a hand over his heart and cocked his head to his left. "I feel touched."

"I've said I'm sorry. What more do you want?"

"You can start by getting off your high horse," Tony sneered, "Don't pretend that you're doing this to _help_. You're just trying to ease your guilt."

"Will you two stop bickering," Loki snapped. He glanced up to the sky when he heard the sound of an approaching Quinjet. Just in time really. "By the gods, you two are like an old married couple. Either fight or make out."

When Tony's gaze landed on him, it softened and a ghost of a sincere smile curved the edges of his lips ever so slightly upward. "That would make your day, wouldn't it?"

"Which option?"

"Both."

Loki grinned at him. "You know me too well." He'd forgotten how easy it was to lose himself when interacting with Tony, how easy it was to forget his pain and anger and hatred, how easy it was to smile at him, even now, after everything that had happened between them.

The Quinjet landed a few yards away from them, wind whipping around them. Thor and Tony instantly headed over to the machine – which had no style at all in Loki's opinion – and for one short moment, Steve seemed to want to follow them, but Loki stepped in his way and curled a hand around Steve's wrist. He stared directly into his wide and startled blue eyes, but before he could pull himself out of his grip, Loki leaned a bit closer. He didn't believe he'd ever been so close to the Captain before.

"I'm well aware that you knew about Fredric all along," He whispered, his face only inches away from Steve's. He knew the man could hear him clearly, even with the Quinjet so close by. "And the only reason why I haven't carved your heart out of your chest yet is because I do love to see you squirm like this as you're losing your team." When he took a step back, he found Steve staring back at him, his jaw clenched together and his gaze still startled, but cautious too now. "It's best if you sit this one out, Captain," Loki grinned, "Who knows what could happen if you get involved in a fight? One strayed dagger is all it would take."

And with that, he spun around and walked to the Quinjet.

No-one said a word when he told them to leave without Steve Rogers.

-/-

A few hours passed that were mostly spent in silence.

Barton and Romanoff were flying the Quinjet and Loki could hear them exchange soft words, but he couldn't understand them, nor did he have any interest to. Tony and Thor were sitting a few seats apart, both their gazes focused on him and Loki had been _this _close to telling them off on it, but then he'd glanced at them and found their eyes unfocused, their thoughts miles away.

That left him in the back of the jet, sitting where he'd sat months earlier – it might even be years now, he hadn't kept track of time – after his fight with the Captain in Stuttgart. Times had been simpler then. He had been the villain and they had been the heroes. Those lines seemed blurred at the moment. Steve Rogers certainly wasn't a hero anymore, not in Loki's eyes and not even in the rest of the Avengers' eyes anymore.

Eventually, Loki dared to close his eyes for a bit. It was strange to allow himself some rest in the proximity of his former enemies. It was a form of exposed vulnerability and it was strange to know, just _know _that he would not be harmed or arrested or thrown out of this very plane.

"Loki."

Eyes snapping open, Loki instantly found Thor standing before him, having that peculiar look in his bright blue eyes, a look Loki had come to loath over the centuries. It was all stubbornness and righteousness.

With narrowed eyes, he watched his brother – _Thor _–take a seat beside him.

"Why do I have the feeling that I will not like what comes out of your mouth next?" He asked while he cocked his head slightly to the left. He smiled sharply, his lips pressed together tightly.

Thor's expression didn't change and Loki hated to think that the oaf had finally found a way to hide his thoughts and emotions from him, to finally shield himself. It was both impressive and highly aggravating.

"I want you to hand over the Soul Gem."

Nodding, Loki chuckled, but he never broke eye-contact with his brother – _dammit_, _Thor_ – even though for some reason, he wanted to toss Tony a glance. "And why would I do that?" He asked, unable to hide the amusement in his voice. The Soul Gem was the most powerful weapon in his possession at the moment and he would be a fool to hand it over to Thor, and a fool he was not.

"I won't allow you to use it on the people of Midgard," Thor explained, nothing but sincerity in his eyes and seriousness in the way he held himself. He folded his hands in his lap, an odd gesture, but Loki figured it was Thor's way of staying calm.

"Always such strong love for them," Loki sneered.

"They have our son, Thor."

Loki's head snapped a little to the right to find Tony approaching and taking a seat on his other side, effectively caging him in. At least, that was how Loki felt, but asking Tony to take another seat or to just remain standing would betray that mindset.

"You know not of which you speak," Thor told Tony with a surprisingly loud and sharp voice.

It had Loki raise his eyebrows, his lips parting ever so slightly, because while he wanted to snap at his brother – _oh, whatever _– he was speechless for a moment. Did Thor really just speak condescendingly toward a fellow Avenger? One look at Tony revealed that that had indeed been the case. Tony seemed as shocked as Loki felt.

"To use the Soul Gem is to destroy," Thor continued with a softer, more collected voice, "Mortals aren't capable of withstanding such pain."

Though clearly insulted, Tony somehow managed to remain calm – which Loki almost admired. _Almost_. "I know the gem can be used for torture," He said quietly.

"Barbaric torture," Thor corrected. There lay obvious tension in his muscles, his hands previously folded together now clasped tightly, his knuckles having turned white. "Did Loki explain what it feels like to be tortured with the gem?"

Loki rolled his eyes and sighed exasperatedly. "Ignorance is bliss."

"It's like your flesh is ripped from your bones," Thor explained, his gaze focusing on Tony again, "It is like your nails are ripped from your fingers, your limbs from your body, again and again, a thousand times. The gem tears your soul apart, only to piece it back together and then restart the whole process. A second feels like a century, a minute like an eternity. No-one ever recovers and no-one is ever the same. The guards we will encounter did nothing to deserve such a cruel fate."

There was an awkward silence filling the Quinjet and Loki was seconds away from making a rude remark – like how any mortal deserved that fate if they stood between him and Fredric – but then he cast one long look at Tony and he knew the man agreed with Thor. Apparently, he had not yet forgotten about righteousness.

"He is right, Loki."

How annoying. "So you would prefer I kill them instead?" He asked, his gaze shifting between Thor and Tony, which wasn't easy with how they were sitting on either side of him – something that would _not _be happening again in the future.

"Death is favorable to this kind of torture," Thor easily replied.

Tony held out his hand and for one split second, Loki contemplated on conjuring a knife and driving it through Tony's hand, making his feelings about the situation extremely clear. In the end, however, he merely sighed, muttered a vexed '_fine_' and then placed the Soul Gem in the palm of Tony's hand.

"Thank you," Thor said much too kindly, making Loki want to drive a dagger through _his _hand, as he received the gem from Tony.

"Heads up, guys," Clint announced through the intercom. Hearing his voice did nothing to lift Loki's spirits. He was still expecting that man to plant an arrow through his eye, even after all this time. Mortals never did let go of grudges, did they? "We're arriving."

Without hesitating, Loki rose from his seat – Thor and Tony doing the same – and walked to the front of the Quinjet, wanting to see where they were landing. The landscape beneath them was bare, just grass, a few trees and mostly rocks. One large house stood about twenty yards ahead, a few smaller houses – sheds really – surrounding it, as well as half a dozen vehicles. Even from this distance, Loki could count at least ten SHIELD-agents guarding the perimeter, and at the moment, they had their eyes fixed on the Quinjet, radios in their hands, probably alerting every agent around that they were having company.

"I read about fifteen life-signatures inside of the house," Natasha said, clicking away on a few buttons on the dashboard while Clint was busy landing the jet, "Thirty around the house."

"They were expecting us," Tony said with a sigh while he was putting on his suit, "Fury isn't taking any risks with this one."

"You get inside that house and you find our son, Tony," Loki said as he turned to the man. Tony nodded, every piece of his suit in place, save for his helmet. His dark brown eyes stood less kind for a change. "Let me take care of the guards outside."

"I have your back, brother," Thor announced.

When Loki turned to Thor, he smirked a bit, memories of past battles returning to him, and for one brief moment, he dared to feel nostalgic. The idea of fighting side by side with Thor was a welcome one for a change.

"Just like old times, am I right?"

Thor replied with a fond smile.

"Let's do this," Tony said once Clint landed the jet and opened the hanger-door.

The five of them exited, all heavily armed and ready for a fight. Thor's knuckles were white with how tightly he held Mjolnir. Tony's suit buzzed as weapons locked into place. The sound of guns being cocked could be heard and Loki found Clint and Natasha checking their weapons, unafraid to either wound or kill.

They crossed the distance to the house in under thirty seconds, the agents in sight uncertain of what they should do – _morons_. Without hesitating, Loki sent a batch of daggers their way, injuring them, clearing the way for Tony to enter the house and find their son, Natasha and Clint right behind him. Gunfire could be heard, but Loki easily deflected the bullets sent his way, only to make them change direction and send them right back from where they came from. More agents fell down, dead this time.

After a few minutes, Loki found himself standing back to back with Thor, the position having come so naturally that he hadn't thought twice about it. He threw daggers around and made sure no extra agents could enter the building to stop Tony from finding Fredric.

It took him a while to realize that there was a side door, however, something which caused him to curse under his breath. "Thor!" He shouted over his shoulder, watching as Thor knocked aside an agent with his hammer – the brute, "Guard that door! Make sure no-one else can enter!"

Thor didn't reply and instantly moved to the side of the house, knocking agents aside, roaring and groaning like only he could. Loki would roll his eyes at it, but three agents were firing at him which, at the moment, was more annoying than Thor's battle-behavior. Throwing up a force-field, he avoided getting shot, although if he _were _to get shot, he imagined it would feel nothing more than like a nasty sting.

And then there were no more agents left to fight, except for one, though he was not an agent.

Loki found himself facing the one man he wanted to rip apart, the one man he wanted to see burn for what he'd done. Director Nick Fury. His one good eye was staring at Loki, his arms beside his body, his feet planted firmly into the ground. He looked tall and confident, and Loki refused to make the mistake of underestimating the man.

"You're too late," He said, his hand curling around a dagger. One swift movement and he would throw it, slicing Fury's neck with deadly precision. He didn't just yet, though. "Do you really think you can still stop us from getting Fredric?"

Fury shook his head. "This is no longer about your son. In truth, it was never about him. It was only ever about you."

Before he replied, Loki glanced aside, finding Thor knock aside three agents who were trying to gain entrance to the house. "Should I feel flattered?" He asked before grinning sharply. "What will you do, Director? Kill me?" His green eyes fell to Fury's right hand, finding the gun he was holding so very tightly. "You'll need more than an ordinary gun for that."

"Oh, this isn't an _ordinary _gun," Fury said, dead-serious, "I have Stark to thank for this." Without hesitating, before Loki could even blink or rememberto throw the dagger in his hand, Fury lifted his hand and fired.

The sound echoed loudly through the air.

Gasping, Loki found himself overwhelmed with a sudden sharp pain to his chest, his lips parting as if he wanted to scream – and he did, but no sound came from him. He glanced down to find blood streaming from a deep wound in the middle of his chest, his flesh torn apart, his lungs slowly filling with blood, his heart racing to keep him alive.

Gravity pulled him down so very quickly, just as he heard Thor scream behind him.

"_No!_"

The sound of Mjolnir flying through the air reached Loki's ears and he witnessed as the hammer knocked Fury aside, effectively knocking him unconscious, and then Thor knelt down beside him. Loki glanced up, unable to breathe, unable to move.

"Loki," Thor whispered. Mjolnir returned to him, but Thor set it aside, his hands instead moving to pull his little brother in his lap.

"Well … _fuck_," Loki finally managed to utter. He drew in shallow, sharp, gurgling breaths. Fear moved around his chest like a claw, because he never had experienced such physical pain before and no matter what he tried, he could not heal himself, the wound being too large, too much blood flowing down his chest and stomach.

"Don't move," Thor said, and _fuck him_.

Loki _couldn't _move, his entire body seemingly paralyzed. He could only look up his brother, look into his eyes and hope that he could understand him, that he knew what he wanted to tell him. "I have to know … if he is safe." He coughed, blood instantly staining his lips.

"I'm sure he is," Thor replied.

But that wouldn't do. Loki's mind was racing, thought after thought crushing him, but they all resolved around the same subject. "Please … _brother_."

A new voice called his name.

_Tony_.

His face filled his vision a moment later – together with Thor's – and Loki didn't know why he smiled, why he suddenly felt less panicked. It was just the sight of those familiar brown eyes, that frown on his face, that ridiculously well-kept goatee.

"Fredric?" He managed to ask.

Buzzing and whirring filled the air, every piece of Tony's suit falling away from him. Slowly and so very carefully, Thor handed his injured brother to Tony, the man quickly wrapping his arms around Loki's narrow shoulders and pulling him as close as possible. The thought of lying in Tony's lap, being held by him, was strangely soothing, and Loki didn't feel bothered by that thought. He'd been held by him many times.

"I found him," Tony said with a hint of a smile ghosting over his lips. One hand moved to rest to the side of Loki's neck, his pointer finger pressing against his jugular, feeling his pulse. "He's okay, Loki, he's healthy and he's okay and he's gorgeous."

Loki could only nod, no longer trusting his voice, no longer trusting the fact that he still _had _a voice. His breathing quickened, every inch of his body feeling like it was lit on fire, and it became hard to keep his eyes open, darkness trying to pull him under.

The feel of Tony's lips against his gave him new strength, no matter how cliché that sounded and no matter how bothersome that was. Loki truly didn't know why Tony had that effect on him. He kept his eyes fixed on the mortal and focused on breathing – in and out, in and out. He had to stay conscious.

"You're not gonna leave me now, are you?" Tony asked with a hint of amusement in his voice. He even managed to smile convincingly even though his dark eyes only revealed fear and concern and pain and panic. "Because that would be selfish."

"You know me," Loki said breathlessly.

Tony's hand brushed aside a strand of his raven hair, his smile faltering ever so slightly.

"He needs help," Thor stated.

"No shit, Sherlock," Tony hissed, glancing up at Thor, "But look around you. We're in the middle of nowhere. We just injured and killed over a dozen SHIELD-agents. No-one is gonna help us."

"There is one other place," Thor offered calmly.

"_No!_" Loki exclaimed. More excruciating pain shot through his body, making him scream, causing him to squeeze him eyes shut.

"Let me take him to Asgard."

It became hard to focus on what was happening around him. "They won't … let me go," He said, finally managing to lift a hand and place it on top of Tony's which was still positioned to the side of his neck. He squeezed as hard as he could, wanting Tony's attention, actually _wanting _him to see his desperation for the first time since ever, but he figured his squeeze was too weak and rather pathetic to achieve that goal. Still, he needed Tony to look at him, needing him to understand. "_Please_."

"I'll bring him back," Thor said assuredly, "I promise."

"_Tony_ …"

"I'm not gonna let you die," Tony said as he glanced down at Loki again, his voice hard, yet on the verge of breaking. It was an odd combination, and Loki didn't know if he'd ever heard that before. It was because of him, though. Tony was upset because of _him_. He shouldn't feel so pleased about that. "Not after everything." Slowly, cautiously, Tony pulled away from Loki, allowing Thor to pick him up – Loki screamed at the pain racking through his body – and then he rose to his feet. There were tears in his chocolate brown eyes, but they did not fall. Loki held his gaze for a moment, and then Tony turned to Thor. "Don't you dare break your promise, because I _will _find a way into Asgard so I can kick your ass if you do."

Loki – lying in his brother's arms which was both pleasant and infuriating – glanced up at Thor, watching him nod before directing his gaze to the sky.

"Heimdall?" He called loudly.

The clouds darkened and pooled together ominously.

Loki's heart was racing, his entire body trembling both due to pain and fear. He hadn't returned to Asgard since he'd escaped his cell and there was no predicting what would happen upon his return.

Before he could cast one last look at Tony, before he could see those tears in his eyes again, the determination and despair lining his face, the Bifrost whisked then away, the force too great, too painful, and Loki blacked out.


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: I cannot believe that I actually finished this. I want to thank Greenloki who read every chapter for me, fixing mistakes and generally sticking by my side during this story. Then again, it was her birthday-story ... She asked for something light and fluffy, and this is what she got. Sorry, girl! To everyone else who read this story and/or left a review, thank you! I'm glad you guys enjoyed the ride.**

**The Lover That Went Wrong**

**- Chapter Eleven -**

The room was well lit, sunlight streaming in through the opened curtains, but that didn't prevent the small boy lying in the crib from sleeping like … well … a baby. Tony couldn't tear his gaze away from him, couldn't stop looking at his tiny hands, his small nose or his adorable little ears. He had pale skin and raven hair, just like his mother – or should he call Loki his father? Tony still hadn't figured out those details and, actually, he didn't feel like he wanted to either.

Fredric's little hand twitched, his tiny fingers gripping his soft green sheet tightly. His dark eyes – more chocolate brown than emerald green in Tony's opinion, but babies' eye color tended to change later on – fluttered open, only to instantly close again, the boy falling right back asleep, looking content and calm. It was a sight that made Tony smile, but also one that made him wonder if he would ever be able to leave his son – his _son_, it was still such a strange notion, but he was quickly adjusting to it– out of his sight after everything that had happened, after everything SHIELD had put them through.

"Tony?"

Tony's heart skipped a beat and he nearly let out a surprised yell – thank God he didn't, because the last thing he wanted was to wake Fredric – when he heard the soft, female voice. Spinning around, he found Pepper standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame, her light blue eyes kind and warm, her entire composure relaxed. She smiled when her gaze locked with Tony's.

"Hi there," Tony greeted her with a smile of his own. He walked toward her and then walked with her down the hall and into the kitchen. "You startled me," he said even though he knew it was redundant information. Pepper had known him for years already and she knew perfectly well when he'd been taken off guard.

"I know," Pepper grinned cheekily while she lifted a bundle of papers she'd been carrying around under her arm, wanting Tony to take them – which he did with a frown on his face. "I've collected a few files for you to shift through."

"Files?" Tony couldn't help but ask. He flipped through the collection, finding that a photo had been added to each case, showing mostly young women, some older women and a few young men, too. He truly had no clue what he'd just been handed, and he quickly realized that this was exactly why he hated being handed things in the first place.

"I made a preliminary selection," Pepper continued, not spotting Tony's confusion since his head was turned down, his gaze fixed on the papers, "I think these men and women have the best résumés."

"As what? Supermodels?" Tony asked, looking back up to meet Pepper's gaze.

Pepper rolled her eyes. "Nannies, Tony."

Tony's eyes widened, his eyebrows rising a bit. His hands clenched tightly around the papers. He wouldn't say that hearing that word – _nannies _– made his chest feel painfully tight, but it did leave him with a surprisingly uneasy feeling.

"You need to hire a nanny for Fredric."

It should have been like a dream coming true or something; hiring a nanny – a hot one – watching her work with a shirt that revealed way too much cleavage, seducing her, doing her on the couch, wasn't that every guy's wet dream? Really, it was a scenario that covered about ten percent of porn-movies, yet now the idea made Tony feel … restless. Another person looking after his son? It was a thought that didn't sit well.

"Fredric doesn't need a nanny," he said, aware of that sharp edge to his voice, and if Pepper noticed it, she didn't react to it. "I'm going to raise him. He's _my _son, _my _responsibility."

Pepper, her kind and friendly smile unwavering, folded her hands before her stomach. Tony could tell she'd wanted to reach out to him, touch his shoulder perhaps. The fact that she didn't warned him that he wouldn't like what she had to say next. "You can't lead a multimillion dollar company _and _be a fulltime father. There are meetings you need to attend, blueprints you need to work on, business-trips you have to-"

"He'll be here," Tony snapped before quickly pressing his lips together and biting down on his tongue, refusing to have such another outburst. He watched Pepper's gaze turn almost sorrowful and that was exactly what he didn't want to see. He wanted no-one's pity and he certainly didn't want to be confronted with their doubt. Having to face his own was hard enough.

"I know what you're thinking," he said when he knew Pepper wouldn't break the silence, "he was shot and it looked bad, but it's only been two weeks. He'll come back when he's fully recovered. Thor gave me his word and that actually means something to Asgardians."

"I don't doubt he'll return," Pepper replied. _Ha, as if!_ Tony sighed heavily and looked away from her for a moment, not wanting to look her in the eye as she was lying to him. "But that doesn't change the fact that you're going to need a nanny. Please, Tony, just look through the files and see if there is someone you like."

Grudgingly, he placed the papers on the counter, staring down at them. "Fine," he sighed, and when he glanced up at Pepper again, he found that she looked pleased and happy – exactly how he preferred her, because after everything, after all the shit he put her through already, she was still there for him and she was still his friend. He would do anything to make her happy. "But only because I'm doing you a favor," he added, amused, already feeling better about the situation.

"I know," Pepper said, nodding enthusiastically. She took a step forward and placed a hand to the side of his arm and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, Tony."

-/-

"_This better work, Stark_."

Natasha had the lovely ability to sound dangerous over the intercom and, honestly, Tony didn't know how she did it. The tone of her voice was just so sharp and it made him hope extra hard that his device was finally fully operational. Otherwise, they would be in somewhat of a pickle and, as always, he'd get blamed for everything.

"It'll work," He said, sounding confident because like fuck was he going to let his fellow Avengers – minus Banner, Rogers and Odinson, so really, the group had slimmed down a bit – hear his nervousness. It wasn't so much that he feared the god-stunner wouldn't work because he was always confident in his own designs, but the idea of Amora getting her spidery hands on them was not something Tony liked to entertain.

"_She's been spotted four blocks to the east,_" Barton said.

Tony pulled up a map inside the mask of his suit, telling Jarvis to keep a lock on Amora at all times. On the other hand, it wasn't that hard to track her. Really, he just had to follow the trail of smoke and he'd find her at the end. Amora had a love for setting buildings on fire after all. It made it easier for Tony to understand why Loki liked her so much. Not that he liked her anymore. Tony couldn't help but feel a painful sting of jealousy to his chest.

Taking to the sky, he flew to where the Asgardian woman supposedly was, and yep, there she was, wrecking her way through the city since, apparently, she was pissed off that her partner had abandoned her right before they were going to make the world kneel before them. It was rather sad. And pathetic. Mostly pathetic. Tony hated her with all of his guts.

"_Don't miss,_" Natasha said, her voice echoing through Tony's suit.

Tony rolled his eyes. "If you want to take her out yourself, feel free," He said. He would have snapped at her, but then Natasha would kick his ass when he'd get back to his tower and Tony didn't plan on surviving an encounter with Amora only to be killed by Natasha ten minutes later. "I have a lock on her," He announced, making sure Natasha didn't have a chance to reply to his comment, "Now if she'd just stand still long enough–"

"_She's not gonna stand still long enough, Stark,_" Came Barton's amused voice, "_Just hit her with a dose already._"

"And what if I hit a bystander?" Tony retorted, and would you look at that? Somehow he'd developed a sense of conscientiousness. He blamed Rogers for that. He blamed Rogers for everything lately. It was fun.

"_Then whoever you hit will sleep gloriously well for a few days,_" Barton said.

"Yes," Tony replied dryly, "And I'll be slapped around the ears with a lawsuit." His gaze remained focused on Amora – Amora who spotted him, her features contorting in a vicious scowl. "Crap_,_" He muttered.

"_Good luck,_" Natasha said.

Tony quickly darted aside in the air as Amora sent a bolt of green fire toward him and, really, Tony couldn't believe she was still using that same cheap trick. He made a mental note to start working on an anti-magic weapon next.

Lifting a hand, he aimed the god-stunner at her and fired.

He missed.

And yeah, he'd definitely get sued.

"A gun?" Amora laughed. Tony despised the sound. It made the little hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "If you think a gun will stop me, then I must inform you that you are in for a surprise."

Tony dropped a few feet from the air, hoping that a closer distance would make it easier to actually hit her. "You do love the sound of your own voice, don't you?" He asked. It earned him a sharp smile in return. "It's okay, I understand. I love my own voice, too." Without hesitating, without as much as blinking, he fired the god-stunner a second time and hoped with all his heart and soul that he would hit her.

He did.

Amora stumbled back, her brows furrowing at the odd sensation that was most likely coursing through her body right now. Tony couldn't know. He never did get around to testing the weapon on an actual Asgardian, what with Thor having left so suddenly to take his heavily wounded – _not _dying – brother back to the golden city in space. In any case, the weapon wasn't calibrated perfectly it seemed because while Amora looked in pain and her limbs began to tremble, she remained standing.

Tony simply shot her again.

Amora's pale green eyes widened before rolling back into her head and then she fell down, her body seemingly nothing more than a ragged doll.

Tony carefully landed beside her, keeping the god-stunner aimed at her face, fully prepared to dose her a third time, but Amora didn't move anymore, her eyes closed, her body twisted in a rather awkward angle, but like hell did he care.

"Guys," He said through the intercom, the face-plate of his suit falling back, "I think she's out cold."

"_Great job,_" Barton said, "_You want a golden sticker now?_"

"Ha-ha, you are so fucking hilarious, Barton," Tony bit back. He squatted down and ordered Jarvis to run a fully body scan. It revealed that Amora was in a temporary state of unconsciousness which would last perhaps half a day or a day if they were lucky.

He thanked Jarvis as he stood again and then without blinking, he shot her again.

Jarvis noted she'd be out for at least thirty hours now.

"Sweet," Tony noted.

-/-

When Tony entered the living room after having taken a long, hot shower, he found Pepper was pacing the floor, one hand clasped tightly around her cell-phone while a little bundle laid in her other arm. "That would be great," She said to whoever was on the other end of the line.

Tony didn't think it was a business-associate. No, Pepper sounded too kind for that. He finished drying his hair before carelessly tossing the towel onto the couch as he passed it, and then walked up to her and carefully lifted the small bundle from her arms. A small cry came from the small boy, but Tony quickly rocked him and the boy fell still, his wide brown eyes locking with his father's.

"Hi, there," Tony smiled down at him.

"Yes, tomorrow at eight. He'll be here to greet you," Pepper said. Tony looked up at her, but she wasn't looking at him. Whatever she was talking about, though, Tony didn't think he would like it. While he didn't think she was talking to a business-partner, it still sounded like work. "Perfect. I will see you then."

"What's that about?" He asked as soon as Pepper ended the call and turned around to face him with a delighted smile on her face.

"The nanny," Pepper answered. Her gaze locked with Tony's – Tony who had to suppress the urge to groan. "Which you oh so conveniently forgot about."

"Right, the nanny," He muttered. Fredric made a small sound and Tony cast his eyes down to his son again. The idea of handing him over to a stranger made his stomach churn uncomfortably and, really, he wasn't being overprotective or anything – maybe he _was_, but he believed he had good reason to be. "I told you, Pepper, we don't need a nanny."

"I can't babysit him every time you go off fighting a villain or saving the world," Pepper replied, "I'm practically leading Stark Industries, Tony, and–"

"–and for that I will be eternally grateful," Tony finished. It earned him a pointed look.

"The nanny will be here tomorrow at eight as you've well heard," Pepper simply continued, "Promise me you'll be here to greet her, Tony, to give her a tour of the penthouse and show her where everything is."

Fredric gave out another small cry and Tony cradled him a little closer to his chest. It still felt a bit awkward to be holding such a small and fragile creature, and sometimes Tony still couldn't believe that the little guy was completely dependent on him, but the idea that he _had _a son now sounded like the most logical thought in the world. Of course he had a son!

"Has she been screened?" He asked after a short silence.

Pepper pressed her lips together while her hands, which she had folded before her stomach, became tense, her knuckles turning white. It was enough to fill Tony with a new sense of dread.

"What?" He asked, eyes having gone wide, his grip on Fredric tightening just a little bit more.

"Natasha used the SHIELD-database," She explained and, really, she looked guilty, like she had just confessed to being a traitor and, for one brief moment, Tony felt like she had indeed betrayed him, but this was Pepper and he trusted her with his life. He dared to say he trusted her with Fredric's life, but this … this he could hardly believe.

"The SHIELD-database?" He echoed in disbelief, his voice just a bit too loud and too high. "Pepper, you know SHIELD can't be trusted."

"But Natasha can be," Pepper replied resolutely, "Now stop being so stubborn about it." She stepped closer to him and placed a kind hand to his shoulder, her features softening as she smiled. "I picked the best one, Tony. Fredric will be in good hands whenever you're off doing your duties."

Tony exhaled slowly, his gaze trained on his son. He imagined himself handing him over to a stranger which was an image he knew he shouldn't dwell on too long. He'd never thought he'd become so dependent on the boy too. "Fine," He conceded, "I'll be here tomorrow."

Pepper's smile broadened. "Thank you, Tony."

-/-

For once, the city was almost quiet beneath him. A few cars honked in the distance, the sound of busses and trains carried through the air, but that was about it. Then again, it was well past midnight – early morning some would say – and sometimes even the great city of New York became calmer for a while. Tony enjoyed standing out on the balcony of his penthouse, leaning with his elbows on the railing, a glass of his best whiskey in hand.

For one brief moment he dared to feel content. No villains were trying to burn down any buildings, no-one was trying to subjugate the world, and SHIELD wasn't trying to kidnap his son or something along those lines. Things were good, but Tony still felt restless. He couldn't help but glance up at the dark sky, hoping to see the familiar rays of the Bifrost landing on his world, but everything stayed dark – or as dark as everything could be in the middle of a city like New York.

"You should quit drinking."

He nearly died of a heart-attack. With wide and bewildered eyes, not having expected another human being to be up at this indecent time of the night, he turned around to find Clint Barton walking onto the balcony, his face smug when he spotted Tony's unsettled gaze.

"And why should I do that?" He asked, relaxing again. He turned back to the skyline and took a sip from the whiskey. "Do you even know what I'm drinking?"

Clint came to stand next to him, elbows leaning on the railing as well. "Probably some over-expensive whiskey."

"Exactly."

"All the more reason to quit," Clint said. His gaze fell on Tony for a moment, taking him in, and Tony squirmed a little, not liking the way Clint was staring at him and not liking what the guy would have to say – because he looked like he had something to say. "Half of your liver is already ruined," He continued, and _huh_, Tony had to admit that he hadn't expected _that_ to come from the guy's lips, "I thought you might at least try to save the other half."

Tony's eyes narrowed. "Why the sudden concern with my health?"

"I don't know," Clint shrugged, "I thought you were the kind of guy who would want to see his kid grow up."

Tony stared. That was all he could do. That and wonder if Clint had just offended him. Then he realized that half of what Clint said did offend him. "You know …" He started, eyes turning to the contents of his glass while he wondered what he was even doing, but he figured if he could talk to someone it was Clint. The guy might be a dick sometimes, but he was a great listener. Tony suspected Natasha had trained him to be. "You know what I'm always thinking when I'm with him?"

"Don't drop him?" A smug grin spread across Clint's face.

Any other time, Tony would have punched him in the shoulder for that, but for once, he was dead-serious and he wanted the conversation to be dead-serious. He gazed into Clint's light eyes, nothing but sincerity lining his features. Clint got the hint.

"Just do better than Howard," Tony said.

"The kid is still tiny," Clint replied, "I mean, how old is he now? Three months?"

"Five, nearly six."

"You can't screw up being a dad to a five-month-old." A smile curved Clint's lips upward. "Seriously, Tony, all you gotta do is feed him and change his diapers in time, and you've got a nanny for that now who is very pretty if I might add, but don't tell Tasha I said that or I'll kick your ass."

Tony hummed before taking another sip from his glass. "You're really great at giving parental advice, you know that?"

Clint nodded assuredly. "I do what I can."

There wasn't really much else Tony wanted to say. In truth, he should get some rest because while the nanny would come over in the morning, he still liked to be there to take Fredric out of bed and get him dressed. The rest of the day was booked with meetings so he knew he wouldn't get to see the little guy that much tomorrow.

"Steve came by again."

Tony groaned, but otherwise hid his annoyance _and _curiosity. "Did he now?"

"Yeah," Clint said in the most ordinary tone which kinda grated at Tony's nerves. He wished everyone was as pissed off with Steve fucking Rogers as he was, but that just wasn't the case. "He bought a little car-set for Fredric. It's really adorable."

Not having anything to say to that, Tony kept his mouth shut. The subject of the Captain often came up, but he just wasn't ready yet to forgive the guy.

"How much longer are you going to ignore him for?"

A heavy sigh escaped Tony's lips. He wasn't sure what annoyed him more; the fact that the subject of their conversation was Steve again or the fact that Clint was bringing it for the umpteenth time now. "At least a little while longer," He replied when Clint kept staring at him, actually expecting an answer, "I like to see him stew in his own guilt."

Clint rolled his eyes. "Will you just talk to him already?" He asked as he straightened his back and pushed himself away from the railing. He turned his body toward Tony and stared down at him with sharp eyes. "I know what he did was kinda rude, but he's a part of our team."

Tony didn't bother moving. He quite liked leaning onto the railing.

"Kinda rude?"

"Fine," Clint gave in, "He'll burn in hell for it and I've heard that's a real place if we may believe Thor's stories, so stop giving Steve hell for it here in this life."

"Alright, alright," Tony sighed, "I'll think about it."

"And stop drinking," Clint added. He snatched the glass of whiskey right out of Tony's unsuspecting hands. "Wanna do better than Howard? Then quit your alcoholic behavior."

Tony looked hurt if nothing else, though his eyes revealed a hint of amusement. In truth, it was some solid advice that he should follow if he had any brain cells left. "That was rude," He muttered.

Clint threw him another smug smile. "Thank me later."

-/-

Tony didn't talk to Steve for another two weeks.

-/-

"You gotta stop buying him presents," Tony said as he sauntered into the nursery.

Steve spun around, away from the crib in which Fredric lay wide awake. His tiny little hands were grasping a small teddy bear that wore a shirt with Iron Man's symbol drawn on it which was rather adorable, but Tony wouldn't voice that thought. Besides, he was too focused on Steve standing awkwardly before the crib as if having been caught with his hand in the cookie-jar.

"I mean it," Tony said when he knew Steve was too lost for words. He walked up to the crib and smiled down at his son – his son who let out a pleased sound at the sight of his father. "I don't want him to end up spoiled rotten and have him turn into … well, me." He glanced up at Steve who was still staring at him. "It took a dark and dank cave to straighten me out a bit. I'd like to avoid that for him."

Steve cleared his throat and took a step away from the crib, away from Tony, his hands sliding into his pockets. It was a peculiar sight to see Captain fucking America act so insecure, but Tony couldn't bring himself to care. It was amusing, though.

"So what?" Steve asked softly. "You're talking to me again?"

Tony ignored the question while he reminded himself that he was doing Clint a favor. It helped him keep his anger and disappointment at bay. "You still feel guilty about what you did?" He asked in return.

"You know I do," Steve answered without missing a beat.

"Good." Tony reached down into the crib and caressed the side of Fredric's round little face for a moment. Then he turned back to Steve, his dark brown eyes piercing those bright blue ones. "You can spend the rest of your life making it up to him," He said as he pointed behind him.

Steve's lips parted as if he wanted to speak, but no sound left him. His brows furrowed and he looked nothing short of a very confused Golden Retriever.

"Look, the little guy is gonna need all the protection he can get," Tony explained as he crossed his arms before his chest, never once breaking eye-contact, "He's half human, half … Frost Giant, I suppose. Anyway, if they don't want him in order to get back at his parents, they might want him for more … clinical purposes. In any case, he'll need protection and since you're a super-soldier and all that, you'll live longer. You can look after him for longer."

Steve nodded as he straightened his back and squared his shoulders. "You know I will protect him with my life if I must," He said.

"Good," Tony said. He only managed to produce half of a smile. It would take more time to actually bring himself to forgive him for his betrayal, but this could be a start. At least it was something.

He glanced behind him to find that Fredric had fallen asleep.

"I guess I'll see you around, Rogers," He said as he walked out of the nursery. He heard the small sigh of relief coming from Steve's lips, but he didn't comment on it. Perhaps one day they could be friends again.

One day.

-/-

It was strange how life settled in its old ways so quickly. At least, the old ways plus a baby. Somehow Tony had expected more trouble. He had expected the press to jump on his case – Who wouldn't be interested in knowing who the mother of the great Tony Stark's son was? – but there hadn't been so much as a tabloid-journalist around. Natasha had dropped a few hints that SHIELD was keeping them all at bay, but each time that name was so much as mentioned, Tony's mood dropped, his gaze clouding with anger, so Natasha didn't bother anymore.

The fact that she and Clint still worked for the organization bothered him, too, and he remembered his vow to be done with them if they decided to keep working for Fury, but the one-eyed asshole was no longer the Director so Tony didn't bother throwing them out of his penthouse. In truth, he liked having them around, if just to hear Fredric make ridiculous noises when he spotted them. The little guy particularly liked Natasha's red hair.

As for Steve … Tony was trying, he really was, but it was hard to look the guy in the eye and _not _want to punch him in the face. He was working on it, though, and he could tell Steve appreciated it which in turn annoyed the hell out of him again. The fact that a new Director of SHIELD needed to be chosen and that Steve was apparently at the top of that list according to Natasha didn't help further their relationship either, but on the other hand, Steve as the Director could bring about some changes, maybe some good ones.

And then there was Loki. He – and Thor – still needed to show up and as each day passed, Tony had more and more trouble believing he'd ever see the guy again. Slowly, he was starting to believe that Loki was already back in some Asgardian cell where he may or may not belong, an idea that made Tony's stomach twist painfully.

Thor had promised to bring him home, though, and the god of thunder never broke his promises.

Tony had to believe that.

-/-

It had been another long day at the office which was another way to say that it had been a boring day. And a tiring one. Tony just hadn't been made for board-meetings. Those were Pepper's forte, but since he was still the CEO of Stark Industries he was obligated to at least attend a few over the year.

The ride up to his penthouse in the elevator offered a few minutes of peace and quiet before he'd most likely find Clint and Natasha sprawled on his couch, playing some random game on the PlayStation, being incredibly loud. It was their luck Fredric was such a sound sleeper. He'd kick them out otherwise.

Much to his surprise, however, the TV wasn't playing as he entered the living room and the two master-assassins were nowhere to be seen. That didn't mean they weren't around, though. They were _always _around, much to Tony's annoyance. After tossing his coat aside, he walked into his kitchen and headed straight for the fridge. He could use an ice-cold beer.

Leaning against the counter stood a tall and broad blond god, and Tony threw him a happy smile. "Hi, Thor," He greeted him before pulling open the fridge and hoping with all of his heart and soul that Clint hadn't gotten his hands on his alcohol.

Then it hit him

_Thor_.

Tony slammed the fridge shut and spun around to look at the big blond god again, blinking a few times just to make sure he wouldn't disappear into thin air. He didn't, though. Thor just smiled at him, that blue gaze of his seemingly extra bright and a pair of dimples in his cheeks.

Tony's heart began to race, his throat suddenly turning so very dry. "Is he here?" He asked and, honestly, he didn't know why he sounded so breathless.

Thor inclined his head. "Out on the balcony."

Without another word, Tony darted from the kitchen, across the living room and toward the balcony where yes, _he _stood. For one brief moment, he couldn't move anymore. His hand latched around the door-handle, knuckles turning white, but he couldn't bring himself to actually open it. He could only stare at the backside of Loki and take in the black linen trousers and the dark green shirt. Somehow he looked smaller without his armor.

Finally he pushed open the door, his eyes never leaving Loki's figure out of fear he would disappear, but he didn't. Loki spun around at the noise behind him, emerald green eyes instantly locking with Tony's chocolate brown ones and Tony felt like he couldn't breathe. He had to force himself to take a step forward, to move closer toward him.

"You're back," He said and yeah, _great going, dipshit_. He didn't know when he'd lost his vocabulary and he honestly didn't have a clue what to say.

Loki smiled faintly as he leaned back against the railing, hands folding in front of his stomach, one ankle crossing over the other. He looked good considering everything that had happened. His skin was a pale, healthy shade, his lips were full and red and his eyes had a vibrant green color.

His gaze stood open, inviting, and Tony could feel his heart skip another beat.

Fuck, he'd missed that man.

"What the hell took you so long?" He ended up asking while he took another step closer toward him. If he reached out now, he could actually touch him, but Tony still felt hesitant, unsure of where they stood now in their relationship. Did they even have a relationship?

"Thor refused to let me go for as long as I had a wound in my chest," Loki said, shrugging, though Tony heard the faint notes of affection ringing through his voice. It was hardly noticeable, but it was there nonetheless. "He didn't leave my side so I couldn't even sneak out of there. Mother wouldn't stop fawning over me either. It was hateful."

Tony snorted. "You loved every second of it," He said. He had trouble believing how easily they fell into old patterns again, but he wouldn't change it for the world. And Loki didn't seem to mind either, certainly not when he produced a small smile, just enough to curve the edges of his lips upward as if he and Tony were sharing a secret. Perhaps they were. "Have you seen him?" Tony asked suddenly. He dared to take a risk and reach out to place a hand on top of Loki's folded ones.

Loki's emerald green eyes instantly fell down to the touch, but there was nothing about him that showed he disliked the contact. He stayed calm and relaxed, certainly so when he twisted his right hand a bit, his thumb moving to caress the back of Tony's hand.

"Of course I have seen him," He replied so very softly. There was no denying the warmth in his voice. "He has your eyes."

Tony couldn't help but gaze at Loki, couldn't help but take in every detail of his appearance as if he needed more evidence that he really was there and that he really was okay. Loki could feel his eyes on him, though, and he sent Tony a questioning look.

"What?" He asked, green eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"I'm really glad you're home," Tony simply replied. He reached up with his other hand and ran it through Loki's raven hair. It was a gesture he'd done a million times already in the past, but it felt different now. It felt new and more meaningful. He had a feeling Loki needed to be reminded of the affection he felt for him because after everything that had happened, his feelings for him hadn't lessened in any way. "I thought I'd never see you again."

Loki leaned into the touch and smiled before he closed the distance between them, lips brushing against each other before Tony decided to screw it all. He placed his hands on each side of Loki's neck and kissed him like there was no tomorrow, tongue licking at the seam of Loki's lips, asking entrance which he instantly got.

Eventually they had to part to breathe, though, and Tony could hardly think anymore. He had waited weeks for this moment, started doubting that this moment would ever come, but it was happening now and he didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Loki smiled, his hands gripping Tony's wrists tightly as if wanting to keep them in place. Tony didn't mind at all. So very gently, Loki pressed another kiss to Tony's lips before letting out a small pleased sound.

"I'm glad I'm home, too."

**The end.**


End file.
